Saber's Kiss
by FierySable
Summary: Back by popular demand, the sequel to Winter's Parting! Hey ya'll, what do you get when you cross a sweet wide-eyed pacifist with a war-hungry she devil? I dunno BUT here's the fic! r&r is always appreciated, and yeah, read it already!!
1. Default Chapter Title

Disclaimer: *sigh* the characters of this fic are not mine, unfortunately. They belong to some big corporate company that doesn't really need them, but won't let go of them because they're too money hungry. What's up with that??

Hey ya'll! I'm bright eyed, beautiful, and back to type again! Okay, so all of that is basically true…except for the beautiful part. J So…some of ya'll think I've left some loose ends untied relationship-wise from my last fic "Winter's Parting". Let me get this straight…you're telling me I should pair sweet innocent Quatre up with a war-hungry, she-devil from H-E-double toothpicks named Dorothy herself??? You betcha! Here's the first part of the fic kids! Enjoy yourselves and remember, opposites DO attract! 

***

The sound of sabers crossing sang across the empty room like bells…or the menacing growls of predators. The two combatants were panting heavily, dressed in padded white shirts and pants, a wire-mesh mask covering their face. Dorothy smiled, eyes sparkling in cold pleasure as her teacher lunged at her again, saber extended. She danced back, parrying neatly before reversing the direction of her own sword to jab it into his chest, a triumphant purr coming from deep inside of her.

"That's the third time, Mr. Kim. I do believe you are getting rusty." Her instructor pulled off his own mask, a smile self-deprecating smile on his face as he held out his hand for the traditional handshake.

"Miss. Dorothy, it isn't that _I'm _getting rusty. _You're _getting much better. After all, I've been training your for how many years on end?" Dorothy smiled back, also removing her mask and giving her bound hair a hard shake to send it cascading down her back in a golden waterfall. That was perhaps the only thing that hadn't changed about her from three years ago. Her eyes were still a smoky blue, but unlike the hard crystals they had resembled, the cynicism had softened almost imperceptibly to lend a quiet serenity in her normally haughty façade. Her lips were perpetually twisted in a cold smile, but the predatory fierceness that had made her Zechs' trusted second in command aboard the Libra was mostly gone, although only those closest to her could actually see much of a change.

There was an aura of peace about her nowadays, as if she had found that she did not need to prove her worth to anyone but herself, did not have to shoulder any burden that she did not take willingly. Her close friendship with Releena Dorlain had ensured that the small bud of inner contentment that Dorothy held had been carefully fostered and nurtured, letting it bloom and with it, allowing the young woman to move on from her past. It was on this friendship and one other that Dorothy cemented her identity on; they were the two people that she would willingly lay her life down for, although only Releena knew it.

Soft clapping rang across the room, breaking Dorothy's reverie as she whirled towards the door, saber up in an instinctive gesture. Quatre Rebaba Winner, holder of mass fortunes and former Gundam pilot of SandRock held his hands up, grinning with sparkling humor. The years had lent a leaner cast to his face, melting away the last of the baby fat. His platinum-blonde hair, still sat on his head like a tousled mop, (although not as bad as Heero's,) his bangs sweeping downwards to touch right above his eyes. "I'm unarmed this time, Dorothy. Don't you know it's impolite to attack a guest?"

Dorothy laughed, propping her saber against the wall with practiced grace as she tugged off the white gloves that encased her slender hand. "I was never one for being polite, Mr. Winner…" He glared at her, laughter lurking in the back of his eyes, and she corrected herself, "Quatre. After all, it's almost tradition between us, isn't it?" Quatre just grinned broadly, shaking his head.

"How have you been? I haven't seen you since we chased Heero across the colonies to drag him back to Miss Releena."

"Chased? As I recall, Heero pulled a gun on _us_." Dorothy shrugged, "But otherwise, I'm fine." They walked in companionable silence through the halls, birds twittering outside in the gardens as the sun beamed humorously on the Earth, casting everything in its warm, golden glow. "Why have you come this time, Quatre?"

Quatre waved a sheaf of papers in his hand, sighing in exasperation, "It's called corporate business, Dorothy. It seems as if colony L3a didn't like the iron ore that we sent them the last time, some flaw or other." There was almost an offended tone in Quatre's voice and Dorothy stifled a burst of laughter, her faced pulled in its habitual frown. "As if the Rebaba family would ever send inferior building material. But I've been called to space _immediately_ to talk to the colony leaders about it. They wouldn't even accept another representative, said they didn't _trust _them!"

Dorothy smiled consolingly, "Look at it this way Quatre. You won't have to watch Yuy and Miss Releena fawn over each other like schoolchildren." 

He nodded in understanding, quiet joy filling his guileless blue eyes, "Yes." Although he had grown immeasurably wiser in his years as first a pilot, then as the heir to the Winner fortune, he still retained his youthful ebullience, his enjoyment of life. His smile was still tender and empathetic as he thought of his friends. No matter what, he protected them as best as he was able, in and out of the Mobile Suit. He always had, and he always would. "How is Miss Releena?"

Dorothy snorted, disdain showing in the quick flick of her fingers. "Really, its quite disgusting the way they look at each other, Miss Releena smiling and blushing all the time. I do believe that Yuy has made her grown soft, foolish. And Yuy, he's still silent and frowning, but he's guarding over her like a sentinel! He almost shot me in the head when I walked into Releena's office!" There was unhidden contempt at their behavior, yet even as Dorothy scoffed openly at their relationship, it wasn't that hard for Quatre to tell that her ranting was only hot air. There was a special softness in her voice when she spoke of Releena, a slight smile on her normally cynically twisted lips. Few others could see through her façade, but he knew her, probably better than she knew herself. Beneath her ever-present sneer was a soft heart, which she hid insidiously. It was just her way.

"I'll be back in a few days, Dorothy. Give Miss Releena my best wishes."

Dorothy's smile froze before she smirked, flicking her hair back. "Of course, Quatre. Good luck then."

__

Will you miss me? The unbidden thought sprang into Quatre's mind, but he smiled instead, ever the gentleman. "Goodbye Dorothy. I'll come for a visit afterwards."

There was a slight softening in her eyes, so Quatre knew she meant it even though her face retained its usual sarcastic expression. "Oh, please, Master Quatre, do." Quatre laughed as Dorothy gave a mocking ballroom curtsy, arms spread before her elegantly as locks of her hair tumbled over her shoulder to obscure her expression. Under the play of sun on glass, Quatre bowed back playfully, then walked out the door. His chauffeur sprang from the driver's seat, almost tumbling in his haste to open the door to the silver limousine and Quatre smiled, speaking softly to the man before sitting inside. Dorothy stayed by the doorway, watching the spark of silver until it disappeared from sight, then she stepped back into the house, closing the mansion door with a firm click.

***

Author's note: So…whatcha think? I dunno whats gonna happen, but r&r please! 


	2. Default Chapter Title

Disclaimer: Own Gundam Wing? Who me? What, do I look like, the manager of Sunrise Asahi? In other words, no, not mine, but I wish they were. 

Hey guys! Well, dis is da second part to da fic, I dunno why I'm using da instead of the, but dere has to be a good reason. I'll figure it out later. Yeah, so have fun and enjoy DA fic! (hee hee, couldn't help myself…)

Dorothy smiled, sitting in front of the vanity as she stared at her own reflection. A mask of cynicism, she reflected, tracing the contours of her own face. The eyes, the lips…if there was any pain in her heart, she hid it well, presenting only what the world wanted to see: her confidence, her control over herself. There was a slight knock on the door and Dorothy glanced up, momentarily startled.

"Who is it?" She called, and was rewarded by the Releena's muffled voice. Dorothy opened the door, smiling inside when she saw Releena's radiant face. Only a few weeks ago, she had been as pale a wraith, colorless and listless. The sparkle was back in her eyes again, a slight flush of color touching her curved lips. A grin curved Dorothy's own lips as she asked, "I see having visitors agrees with you, Miss Releena."

Releena laughed, closing the door to Dorothy's room, "Oh Dorothy, I can never thank you enough for-"

"Yes," Dorothy interrupted, "You _can_. You've been thanking Quatre and me for the last three weeks, Miss Releena! I assure you, it was sincerely no trouble at all." Dorothy managed a disapproving glare, her eyes pressed tightly together even though her eyes were pleased. "Now _really_, Miss Releena, why have you come into my room?"

"Well," Releena sat down on the bed, smoothing her pale cream dress around her, "I invited everyone over for a little banquet tonight, and I was wondering if you would like to attend."

"Of course, Miss Releena!" Dorothy's smile was genuine and slightly surprised before she hid it, "I would enjoy seeing them again."

Releena caught the slight, unnatural hesitancy in Dorothy's voice and glanced at her in mild concern. She seemed so surprised, almost as if she didn't think they liked her or wanted to meet with her. Why? Releena wondered, but Dorothy merely smiled, sensing an unspoken question, and shook her head, changing the subject.

"You're delegation speech was wonderful, Miss Releena. I do believe that the foreign minister of the Western Empire was most impressed."

Releena frowned, her attention diverted as she answered in an exasperated, half-puzzled voice, "Yes, he did seem most amiable, didn't he? The last time we spoke, he considered the concept of peace quite implausible, refusing to even speak of such an ideal. Does it bother you that he has totally reversed his stance, Dorothy?" Dorothy furrowed her brow, tapping a painted nail against her lip with growing distrust.

"Now that you mention it, Miss Releena, that _does_ seem a little strange…but he signed some rather binding treaties of peace in the last conference. " _Unfortunately, scum rarely abides by written word_… Dorothy thought privately, not wanting to worry her friend with additional burdens, "I'm sure that he will be honorable enough to abide by the Mobile Disarmament clause, Miss Releena. Don't worry. Besides," Dorothy smiled, "You have to get ready for your guests. Especially Mr. Maxwell."

Releena laughed helplessly, all too willing to forget the previous discussion as she shook her head, "Duo? Dorothy, I' m quite sure that boy is _hopeless_. He doesn't have a serious bone in his body!"

Dorothy smiled. "I'm just worried about the furniture, Miss Releena. With Chang Wufei attempting to hack everything in sight with his katana…" The two girls laughed, voices intermingling on one pure note. Because it was good to laugh and it was better to laugh together, knowing there was a friend to turn to around the next corner.

***

Dorothy walked into the room, greeted by explosions of laughter as Duo Maxwell, the irrepressible American pilot with the long braid ribbed Wufei, who was scowling irritably at everyone in general, but Duo in particular. "_No_, Maxwell! Damn it, onna, what did you get me into??" Sally just laughed, leaning against Noin as the both choked in a gargled response to the thunder in Wufei's expression.

"Come on," Duo wheedled, following the Chinese pilot with adorable puppy eyes that were holding in his laughter with remarkable restraint. "Just _one_ drink!"

Wufei growled, "Maxwell, last time you got me to take 'one drink', I found myself standing butt naked on stage singing the blues to a karoake machine! Injustice!!" Duo grinned widely, remembering the incident very well. It had been a few weeks after the 'Barton incident' as it was now dubbed, Duo had found Wufei on the verge of a breakdown, which was freaking the rest of the Preventors out. So he had taken him to a local bar and…well…how was he supposed to know that Wufei couldn't hold a drink?!

"Oh come on, we'll make sure you don't get drunk this time. Loosen up, Wu-man! This is _supposed_ to be a party!!" That's when Duo glanced towards the door and saw Dorothy standing there, amusement written across her face. He grinned, waving cheerfully, "Hey blondie. How's life?" The others glanced immediately to her, their regard cautious, yet not hostile.

Dorothy raised her brow, "My _name_ is Dorothy Catalonia. And life has been very good, thank you, Mr. Maxwell."

Duo winced, "The name is Duo, _DUO_, not Mr. Maxwell." He scratched his head, "Mr. Maxwell my _foot_. What do I look like, a lawyer??" Hilde swatted him over the head, glaring at him in mock affront.

"It's your fault for calling her 'blondie' in the first place. Idiot." There was a trace of affection in her voice for the pilot even as Hilde pushed him to one side, and held out a hand to Dorothy. "Nice to see you again, Miss Dorothy. On the same side this time, I hear."

Dorothy laughed, clasping Hilde's hand lightly in hers, "So it would seem, Miss Hilde. But never fear. I believe we will be getting enough excitement tonight without needing to resort to Mobile Dolls and crossed swords." Hilde grinned, relaxing slightly.

"With Wufei, Duo, and Heero in one room?" She shuddered, "God help us all." The others burst into laughter, even Trowa's lips quirking in a slight smile though his face remained hooded and impassive. Duo gave Hilde an offended look while Wufei began muttering about the disrespect of women for their men, which made Sally give him a less than good-natured glare.

"Where's Quatre?" Dorothy asked in an offhanded manner, her smile gleaming as she allowed herself to relax a tiny bit.

"Oh, returning from the colonies, I would be assuming." Catherine Bloom made her way to them, her face still open and in good humor after all these years. "He said he would definitely make it in time. By the way, we thought Heero and Releena would _never_ get together. I was told you had a large part in finding him."

Dorothy shrugged, "It was nothing. I merely paid back a part of a large debt I owe Miss Releena."

"Speaking of who…" Duo practically pounced on the former Zero pilot as he entered with Releena, punching him on the arm playfully. "Hey ojousan! Heero, you lucky devil, when's the big day?"

Releena glanced at Duo in slight confusion then blushed a crimson red. "Duo!" She protested, making Hilde come forward again to sock Duo in the head again. Dorothy winced slightly at the force of the blow, hiding her smile behind a demure mask of amused indifference as she watched the couple glare at each other.

"You," She glared at him, hands on her hips, "are an idiot." 

Duo smirked, although he was still rubbing his head in a little pain, "But you love me anyway, babe." Hilde rolled her eyes and grabbed Duo's braid before she turned to Releena.

"So?"

"Uh…"

"We're going steady." Heero's face was still as blank as a refrigerator door as he watched the people around him fall to the ground in surprise and horror, Duo actually twitched a little in convulsions. But his Prussian blue eyes gleamed with good humor and a trace of exasperation on the situation he now found himself in. Not that he would ever tell Duo that.

"WHAT???!"

"Well, you see, Milliardo decided that we were too young to marry right now," Releena put in with diplomatic haste. "He's somewhat right, of course, since we're only nineteen. So we decided to wait for a while. Right, Heero?" Heero made an affirmative, but his eyes told a different story even as he resigned himself to his fate. Overprotective brothers. This world could well do with one less of them. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Zechs and Noin come in, a puzzled look on Noin's face and an annoyed one mingling with growing anger on Zechs'. Dorothy also noticed.

__

Oh dear. Dorothy thought, noticing a tick start to develop in Zechs' cheek as he obviously tried to contain his annoyance. _I hope Miss Releena has plenty of stain remover. I have a feeling that this is going to get slightly bloody._ She grinned in her raptorial way, picking up a glass of wine. This struck her funny bone forcefully and she was _not _about to leave until she had seen this to the end.

Duo was grinning, oblivious to Zechs' entrance, and predictably finding humor in their situation as he gasped, "Oh boy. You finally got the nerve to propose and you _still_ haven't got her? What's up with that?" There was a sudden click of the safety valve on a gun being removed and Duo looked up into the barrels of not one, but _two_ loaded weapons held by two equally impassive men that regarded him with cool annoyance.

"I'll shut up now." Duo said quickly, backing up, but before the other two men could do anything or their women could stop them from committing murder, a servant rushed in, looking extremely upset as he almost stumbled in his haste. "Miss Releena! Mr. Milliardo!"

Slightly alarmed, Releena put a hand on Pagan's back, "What's wrong, Pagan? Did the west renege on it's treaties?"

The old man shook his head, his face already lined with age now lined with worry. "No, Miss Releena. A transmission just came in from the Preventor's office. Mr. Quatre's shuttle has just disappeared from the monitors!" Releena's face went pale and there was a stunned silence in the room, Duo still held at point-blank range by Heero and Milliardo, but all three of them forgetting that fact in the light of the new revelation.

Suddenly, Dorothy felt pain in her hand and looked down. The stem of her champagne flute had snapped, glass shards imbedding themselves into her palm like the claws of a beast…or the touch of a saber's kiss.

***

"Hey, Hilde, what's up with you and hitting me on the head in this fic?"

"Do you _need_ to ask? You're being so immature, Duo! Sheesh! Besides, the author told me to and I thought it was a great idea. So I did it."

"Hey!!!" Duo glares at author, "What's up with you anyway??"

"What?" Author looks innocently up from her keyboard, fingers still typing.

"What did I ever do to you??"

"Nothin'."

"Then stop hitting me!"

"_I'm_ not hitting you."

"If you tell Hilde to hit me one more time, I'm gonna get DeathScythe in here to destroy your stupid CPU! So there! What are you gonna do about that, huh? HUH??"

*sigh* "Hilde?" WHACK. "Anyway, thanks for reading the fic! Tell me what you think of it, what you don't like about it, and if you think I'm going a little overboard with the Duo hitting (He really does need his remaining brain cells to function, don't you think?)"

"I heard that!"

"r&r please! I hope you enjoyed it! Duo, put down that god d*mn scythe!!"


	3. Default Chapter Title

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, I probably never will. If everyone knows that, why do I have to write it?

"Dorothy!" Releena grabbed Dorothy's wrist, quickly bandaging her bleeding palm with a handkerchief. Dorothy didn't seem to notice, her face pale and ashen as she stared at her palm with sightless eyes, her lips pressed tightly together in some emotion that Releena couldn't quite identify. "Dorothy, are you all right?" Releena pressed the kerchief tightly against the shard wounds to stop the seep of red blood that was already soaking through the thin material of the cloth.

Dorothy suddenly winced, jerking her hand back instinctively from the pain before she glanced at Releena. Noticing the concern in her eyes, Dorothy forced a smile, thin lipped and definitely dangerous as her blue eyes glittered with flinty anger. "I'm fine, Miss Releena. A little stunned for a moment, nothing more." She turned her gaze on the distressed butler, asking pleasantly, "Is there any lead on what might have happened?"

Pagan shook his head, "The pilot told us that he was coming back on a return journey, then static. We've heard nothing from them since. Poor Mr. Quatre…" But Dorothy wasn't listening to him as her mind whirled. Someone had captured Quatre, the holder of many assets and one of the largest ore manufacturing and refining agencies. A ransom perhaps? Or something else…

Dorothy frowned slightly. Miss Releena had done so much to ensure peace, surely it was not another organization bent on world takeover? Dorothy shook her head unconsciously, one brow furrowed. Impossible. Even the delegation of the Western democracies had signed, ratified, and formally agreed to all the operative clauses denoted in the Peace of Nations Doctrine. If they suddenly reneged, they would face the literal wrath of the colonies _and_ the EarthSphere alliance. Something else was going on…

"Excuse me," She said abruptly, turning on her heel to walk out of the room. Her hand groped for the saber hilt that was not there and she gritted her teeth, turning directions to her room. She needed to practice, to train. Ideas came better to her when she fought. 

***

She parried, lunging forward in a slashing triple combo before dancing back five steps, arm withdrawn in a defensive posture. The sound of her panting filled the dueling room, hollow, cold. With a snarl, she attacked her imaginary enemy again, saber winding in snakelike grace as her feet slid across the floor soundlessly. The dull gleam of the sword flashed, sharp enough to cut at the shadows that played against the red glow of the dying sun. She danced alone, trying to find the usual exuberance that came with the battle, but finding nothing but emptiness.

With a sigh, she dropped the point of the sword to the floor, her blue eyes snapping in vexation and worry that was otherwise not shown on her face. _Why do I care so much?_ She wiped the sweat from her eyes, her blonde hair plastered to the back of her padded dueling suit. _He's an acquaintance of Miss Releena, nothing more. A Gundam pilot that I met a few years ago as a soldier to the White Fang._ For a moment, she felt the yearning for those days overpower her like tidal waves. 

Things were simpler in war than in peace. As a soldier, there was only time to attack, defend, and respond. There was no need to weigh the good versus the evil, only fight, attack. In peace…peace was an ideal that one had to constantly maintain, the most fragile network of webs and political intrigue that had ever been encountered by man. But even in peace, there was always something that went _wrong._ Something that made people turn against it, turn to power, to the blood of a sword. 

__

Why? Why did we have to be caught in this again?! We only left this behind! How many more people must die while I live?? Grandfather, what should I do? I don't understand this…this hatred of mankind for its own. Why did they have to take him?? Why do I care?! 

There were no answers except for the absent flitting of the shadows against the walls, silent, mocking. _Weak…_In a fit of fury, Dorothy raised the sword and flung it against the nearest wall, watching it imbed the tip into the scarred wood before clattering to the wooden floor. Like laughter. She could almost feel the gaze of scornful eyes at her back from her lack of control and she stormed over to the sideboard, throwing her mask viciously on the table.

She didn't belong here, not _here_. It was something that she had known for a long time. Here was a place of peace, untainted with the shadows of the battles that hovered on the fringes of the Kingdom. Even though the Gundam pilots, even though soldiers were stationed like silent sentinels against any threat, _they_ knew their place in this life. A place that stood for guarding the peace that lay as fragile as a blossom against the winter cold.

"But I _live _for the battle." She whispered opening her fists to gaze at her palm. With the pain had come that assurance. The blood had felt warm, alive, in her hand, as if that was where it belonged. She had killed so many in the battle first for OZ, then against it. It was like life and death were an endless dance around her, even though the waltz was over. She didn't understand herself, her dark side, the side that felt content, happy when she was here or with Quatre. He brought out the joy in her, something that she thought she would never be able to feel. With him, she felt…safe…almost like she felt when she listened to Miss Releena speak. Then, and only then, she knew that this peace was _right_.

Otherwise, she sought her battles off the fields, learning the mysteries of the saber, then the more dangerous graces of the firearm and archery. She hid herself well. No one knew of her obsession with the battle. They had thought she had grown away from it long ago, but nothing was farther than the truth. She lived for it, breathed it, consumed it with the hunger of one famished. Like a thirst that could only be satiated after years of abstinence, it had only grown within her…

Dorothy hissed, leaning against the table as sweat dried, freezing against the cold air. She didn't belong here…was a danger here. If she ever let that part of her get loose again…well, best not to stay in the Sanq kingdom where it could and _would_ destroy the peace that Miss Releena had worked so hard for. She needed somewhere to go, somewhere where she could regain the peace that had been sorely lacking. 

__

Why does it rear at me now? Dorothy asked, refusing to let despair sap at her energy. Now was a time for action, not cowering. _Because…is it because of him?_ Dorothy's eyes widened. _It has to be. Every time I almost lose control, he's been there…one of the only ones that I can _actually_ call a friend._ Dorothy glanced around the room that had steadily become her home for more than four years. Four years of peace, four years of hiding.

A small inscription lay engraved in gold above the doorway, one she knew by heart. 

__

Know thyself. Know thy Work and do it. -Thomas Carlyle Past and Present*

It was time to find out who she was, and in doing so, she would have to find the only person that knew her well enough to help her. Dorothy smiled with quiet menace, retrieving her saber and mask as she walked from the room. She needed to leave, to find out who Dorothy Catalonia was. It was time to spread her hawk's wings from the nest of a dove.

"Miss Releena, you'll just have to get along without me for a while," She whispered, eyes gleaming. "Yuy, I'm giving you this chance to keep her safe without me. This time, _I_ have a mission. And I won't fail." With a laugh, Dorothy ducked into her room, switching her accounts and balances so she could withdraw money without anyone tracing it. She packed, taking only the dark clothes that she had worn before she had come to the Sanq Kingdom and her saber, the sun at the window dancing like crimson blood against the blade's edge. 

The shadows lengthened, darkened, with the coming of the storm. The wind hushed. It was time to go.

Author's note: Thomas Carlyle is a preacher that I think was an orator during the Second Great Awakening. I just finished reading one of his speeches and they aren't half bad. I especially liked this phrase that he interpreted from the Bible, so I put it in. I hope you enjoyed the story, although it's mostly Dorothy's introverted thinking. And please, give some r&r to tell me if you like it or not. I need to know whether to continue along this vein or not. Thanx!


	4. Default Chapter Title

Disclaimer: Well, they aren't mine, that's for sure. But the lack's sure not from wishful thinking!

The communications system bleated forlornly, ignored by a silver blonde-haired girl as she maneuvered the small shuttle carefully into space, making minute adjustments to the angle of ascent. "Can't have us getting burned up in the atmosphere before we arrive, can we?" Her voice echoed hollowly amidst the metal hull before reverting to silence except for the continuous sound of the comm and the quick tapping of long nails against the controls.

Suddenly, an authoritative voice crackled loudly, "Dorothy, just what do you think you're doing?"

Dorothy smiled in a predatory manner, her eyes like cold aquamarines as a tiny laugh escaped her lips, "Why, Miss Releena. Whatever do you mean?"

"Don't use that tone with me," Releena's voice had taken the turn from Releena Peacecraft to Vice-foreign Minister Dorlain, Dorothy noted with absent amusement, toying with the ends of her hair. "Why are you trying to go to space, Dorothy? Why didn't you tell us first?" There was a small touch of hurt in Releena's voice that would have at any other time caused Dorothy to respond in reassurance and warmth. But the coldness inside of her wouldn't allow her to, so Dorothy merely smiled as she flicked on the vidphone.

"It's so much better when we can speak face to face, isn't it, Miss Releena? Yes, I'm taking a little trip to space, but don't worry too much about it." The miniature depiction of Releena was definitely stern and worried as she stared back sightlessly into the monitor on her end of the communications. 

"Dorothy, now is _not_ a time for you to be playing fun and games! Quatre's already missing, we don't need to lose two of you in one day!" Releena's expression melted into the concern of a friend as she held out a hand imploringly to the monitor, "Dorothy, please come home. It's not a very safe time to be flitting around in space, not alone. We'll find Quatre, but you've got to come back. You've got to trust me on this."

Dorothy closed her eyes, leaning back in the pilot's seat as the need to find herself, and the need to erase the expression of fear on her friend's face grappled inside of her. _Forgive me Miss Releena…but this, I must do alone. _Her eyes snapped back open, filled with carefully contrived mockery as a cool smile played around the edges of her mouth. "And you, Miss Releena, must learn to trust me." 

"Dorothy, your being foolhardy! You can't possibly succeed!" 

"To the contrary, Miss Releena. I will succeed. Don't worry about me. Continue your quest for peace and I will continue mine." Off to a side, Heero stood unemotionally by Releena, eyes glaring at the screen and Dorothy smile grew wider, "Why, Mr. Yuy. You _must _do something about that expression of yours. It doesn't become you."

"You're going to try to find Quatre alone." There was no emotion in his voice, but no condemnation either as he crossed his arms across his chest, "It won't be easy."

"Heero!" Releena exclaimed furiously, but the Dorothy and Heero ignored her as they studied each other, almost like fencers squaring off for the attack. His Prussian blue eyes that warmed only for Releena dark and cold. 

"So I've been told," Dorothy countered, using her words as her rapier. She hadn't listened to Releena debate in political circles for nothing. "However, Mr. Yuy, there _is_ no feasible alternate considering that you and the others must be there to protect Miss Releena. This attack might have been made for monetary purposes, considering Mr. Winner _is_ the sole heir to the Winner fortune. What's not to say that they will not send people to eliminate Miss Releena as well? She is a powerful political figure. With her gone…" Dorothy waved her hand negligently, eyes never leaving the face of the perfect soldier.

"Really Dorothy, I'm perfectly able to take care of myself," Releena began, but they were still paying no attention to her.

"Hn." Heero muttered, still glaring at the blonde with the ice-cold eyes. _She's being foolish, letting her emotions run away with her. It will get her killed. On the other hand…_ "Fine," Heero abruptly made his decision. Releena looked at him in angry resignation but did not say anything. There was no talking to him in this mood. "He was last seen on the L3a near sector 43. You will report to Preventor headquarters tomorrow morning, or upon sighting Quatre's shuttle."

Dorothy rolled her eyes at the chauvinistic demands, but nodded nonetheless. "Take care of Miss Releena, Mr. Yuy. Or I assure you, you will need more than a Gundam to combat the forces I'll send after you if she is hurt." Heero merely lifted a brow at the threat before Dorothy signed off, the screen going dark. Releena's dark blue eyes snapped furiously as she regarded Heero, fists tightly knotted.

"Heero, was it wise to allow Dorothy to go _alone_ to the colonies?" Heero blinked once before looking at Releena. Gently, he took one of her fists and forced them open, enfolding her hand with his own, massaging the palm and the tense muscles of her wrist until it relaxed slightly. A small smile lurked in his eyes as he watched her animosity lessen slowly and then dissipate altogether.

"One should always follow his emotions." He let a hand trail across her silken locks of hair before kissing her lightly on the lips.

Releena sighed, tilting into him with a semi-annoyed look on her face as she brushed away the bangs that always seemed to fall into his face. "You don't play fair." He merely looked at her, holding her against him soothingly, willing her to forget her worries for a brief moment. Her face showed her anxiety and fear for Quatre and now Dorothy, but it was a fear that could not be shown to anyone else. Therefore, Heero alone had her deepest confidence amongst the millions he shared her with everyday, amongst the millions that leaned against her for support and turned to her for comfort, it was she that leaned against him for support and comfort when life became rough. 

She had been likened to a dove many times, a dove of peace, they said. So few people knew the strength she held inside, a core of iron surrounded by the satin, sometimes naïve façade she presented to the world. Yet in other ways, she was so fragile, like glass, breaking at the slightest pressure from a cruel hand. 

"Aishiteru, Heero." Releena wrapped her arms around his waist, peeking up at him with hesitant blue eyes. Heero let a slow smile, quite likely his first in a long time, cross his face, bringing an enigmatic light to his eyes as he grazed his knuckles along her upturned cheek.

"Aishiteru…Releena."

***

Dorothy sighed irritably, tapping her manicured nails against the cool metal console with barely concealed impatience. "Now…if I had kidnapped a man worth a few billion dollars, where would I stash him?" Dorothy smiled predatorily and initiated a scan to sweep amongst the asteroids that floated lazily around the colony. In the war, they had served an admirable job in colonial defense, making it hard for large ships to penetrate the asteroid fields without becoming crushed by the dangerous floating rocks. Later, they had been transformed into mining fields for gundanium and iron ore as teams of miners took their equipment in to extract these precious metals from useless rock.

Because they could not take large machines in to collect it for the same reason the large spacecrafts could not penetrate it, usually, these were smalltime miners that had equipment contained the bare essentials: a small drilling unit, maybe even picks. They then sold the fruits of their labor to the bigger mining companies that had more lucrative business elsewhere. These companies then refined and purified the ore, turning them over to be marketed to building companies and others. So it was all a circle, each part playing an intricate part in this process. The loss of one meant the destruction of the entire cycle, which would inevitably lead to the downfall of the economy…, something that Miss Releena had stopped even though such metals were not needed to produce Mobile Dolls anymore.

"Mr. Winner…come out come out where ever you are…" Dorothy snorted at her own childish whim, a sardonic smile lighting her lips. "Well, anything that works." Her computer beeped, taking her attention as it reported no life signs on the asteroid field. Another dead end…wait a minute. No life? Dorothy frown came back full force. Even in the cold winters when the sun turned away from the colony, some miners still stubbornly refused to leave, groping for that one bit of ore that would be their ticket to higher living. 

"Computer, scan again." There was no difference in the report…which was an anomaly in itself. Even in the span of five minutes, space was continuously changing, as rocks bumped into each other, broke off from each other…this report was exactly the same! Blue eyes narrowed as skillful hands led the ship into the field, carefully airblasting away the few meteorites that did bump against the hull of the ship.

Suddenly, the ship jerked in an attempt to neutralize a very large shock, and Dorothy cursed, trying to scan for her attacker, which had consequently fired repeatedly on her. Her ship registered nothing out of the ordinary, which made her even more furious. "The best of technology, and _this_ is it??" She banged her fist against the controls and grabbed her spacesuit, slipping into it quickly. She unbuckled her sword belt, sliding the saber out of its sheath.

"Then we'll have to go back to the old fashioned way!" There was a deadly click, and Dorothy spun around, saber going to a space-suited man's throat, her blue eyes frosty with ill-concealed anger. Unfortunately, he also held a gun to her head, the safety lock off. For a moment, they froze, a tableau of silence in a silent ship. A man appeared at his side and grabbed the tip of the saber, forcefully yanking it out of her hand as the other one came to slap her face. She hissed, barely feeling the pain as her arms were grabbed in brutal fists that twisted them behind her back.

"Where has the honor gone when two _men_ must fire upon an unarmed woman?" She asked challengingly as they shoved her in front of them.

They didn't say anything, just maneuvered her, with much manhandling and unnecessary shoves and threats into their own ship, that had docked right next to hers without her knowng. It was a sleek pleasure yacht, of all things, that had been heavily modified to accommodate for the turrets and missile hatches that had been installed into its sides. Dorothy tumbled through the hatchway, falling in a pile on soft red carpet. She snarled furiously at herself, even though her face was schooled to reveal nothing but a cold emotionless visage.

"Miss Catalonia! Tell me, what drives you and young Gundam pilots to come careening through the gates of my little home unexpected and unannounced? I daresay that's quite rude of you." Dorothy jerked her head up and narrowed her eyes. The only thing that kept her on her knees were those stupid ropes that had been generously wound around her.

"I'll kill you for this." Grey eyes danced mockingly back at her.

Author's note: Well, that's t he end of the what, fourth part? Yeah, so they finally meet together and why is Dorothy so furious? For the people that actually write REVIEWS *ahem, ahem* tell me how I'm doing on this and give me comments, criticisms, flames, etc. I look forward to the former, but I'll still take into consideration the latter. Thanx! 

On a totally unrelated matter, I just wanna say its Christmas, or near enough to Christmas. So remember, when you're shopping for friends and family, don't forget the homeless stranger on the street that has neither, and slip him a bill or a kind word, okay? They're still people for all they've come down on hard times.


	5. Default Chapter Title

Disclaimer: I dunno…duh…do I own Gundam Wing? Um lets see *quickly scans the employee list from Sunrise Asahi* no, my name doesn't seem to be on here. Maybe Santa'll give it to me for Christmas.

He burst out laughing, brushing back hair as dark as hers was light, "Really Miss Dorothy! Where have your manners gone?" He tilted his head back mockingly, "Four years in court with the Vice-Foreign Minister and you lie there, not even bothering to stand up to greet me? Then you threaten to kill me? Why, you must be under the influence of that Gundam pilot, Heero Yuy!" There was a definite edge in his voice. He did _not_ like that pilot.

Dorothy smiled savagely, rising upwards on her knees, "So _sorry_, sir. Let me remedy that!" She lunged towards him just as one of the men that had brought her yanked on the rope, slamming her back to the floor. He kicked her in her side and she glared at him furiously, wincing at the pain. 

"Coward!" She hissed as the one that she assumed to be the leader squatted before her. A rough hand grabbing her chin as he turned her face this way and that, almost as if he were testing out a horse to see its good and bad traits. Unbidden, Dorothy felt a river of ice run down her back as she stared at his sneering face. That wasn't what scared her. It was the total lack of emotion in his eyes, the very blankness in his eyes that were not like Yuy's. In the pilot's eyes, there was a willful training to hold silent, to be calm. This man_ liked_ to hurt people, _liked_ to cause pain, cause fear.

"Well…not the golden-hair dove of peace that I wanted," There was an absent murmur in his quiet voice, almost thoughtful, "but golden hair, nonetheless, aren't yout, Miss Catalonia?" Dorothy spat in his face, earning herself another swift kick.

"You fool! You'll never capture Miss Releena!" Despite the agony that burned from the ropes and the apathetic beatings she was getting, Dorothy managed to bare a twisted smirk of her own. Her long, platinum-blonde hair spread around her like a lion's mane, and her glittering blue eyes were slitted in feline hatred. "With the Preventors and the Gundam pilots there, do you_ really_ think that you'll be able to destroy the peace that she has worked so hard to earn?"

"My dear Miss Catalonia, you _totally_ mistaken my objective. I merely wish to ensure that she will not attempt to interfere with my plans." He calmly wiped the spittle from his cheek, toasting her derisively with a glass of champagne twisting in his fingers. "I don't want the onslaught of war. No, no. Do you know how…" He waved his hands, pretending to search for the right words, "_expensive_ that would be to me? No, this peace suits me fine. The only problem is…well, lets just say I've invested a lot of capital on ore refineries and here I find, to my great dismay of course, that I cannot _get_ to the ore." His eyes gleamed, "You see, Miss Catalonia, I find that I cannot bring much machinery in here to mine this _precious_ load of metals. They simply won't fit. The only way to extract the metal is manually." When Dorothy snorted disdainfully, he hissed, "One's _hands_ Miss Catalonia. The _hands!_ The first tool made by man to do menial labor, the _only _tool required to mine this ore!"

Dorothy laughed in counterfeit amusement, "So you're hiring individual miners to do the dirty work, yes?"

"Hire? Why hire? That would cause us to loose in capital, Miss Catalonia. Suffice to say, they've been…invited, to join our merry little group." Dorothy's eyes widened in ill-concealed horror. _Slavery?! Such a thing was unheard of! Not here, not anywhere!_ The man smiled in satisfaction as he saw a flash of enlightenment cross her face. "So…you finally understand."

"You perverted son of a bitch!" For a moment, she broke loose from her captors, exploding to her feet and giving him a hard kick in the stomach. Her hands were still tied behind her back, a rope wrapped around her neck, so all she could do was grind her heel firmly into his abdominal muscles, releasing her anger in that one kick before she was beat again. This time, they were not content to hit her once, but pummeled her unresisting body continuously until they were called sharply to a halt. This time, Dorothy didn't bother to get up. She hurt everywhere, blood leaking from her clenched teeth to mix with the red dye of the carpet.

"That was stupid, Miss Catalonia." Was that pain in his voice? Good! Her bruised lips cracked, little runnels of red staining white skin even as they widened into a gratified sneer.

"How true, foolish man. I should have aimed a bit lower to be effective, don't you think?" This time he grabbed her himself, hauling her to her feet by the material at her chest and shook her violently.

"Do. That. Once. More. And. I. Will. _Kill_. You! _Understand_?" There was a blaze of dark fury across his cheeks before he threw her contemptuously away into the waiting arms of his underlings. "Make sure Miss Catalonia enjoys our _hospitality_ here." He smiled coldly, once more under control. "She's sound of mind and body. When we reach Asteroid 68, put her to work. Refining, mining. I don't care. Just do it!" Snapping those orders out, he let the men haul her away.

__

Miss Releena's going to throw a fit. Darkness haunted the edges of her consciousness even as she struggled weakly against the bruising grip of those hands. _As long as Yuy and Mr. Milliardo are there, she'll be fine. That much I know._ Sable dreams rushed to meet her resisting awareness, ebbing away the pain and the humiliation. Somewhere, blue eyes in a round face watched over her anxiously, a hand reached out to protect her.

__

Don't worry Dorothy. It'll be all right. Sleep now, fight later.

But-

Please, Dorothy, just rest. You're hurt, you must rest or you will be in no position to strike back later. Trust me. 

With those assurances from that vaguely familiar male voice, she sighed, capitulating to the inevitable fingers of insistent shadows. Her final thoughts, muttered in tired annoyance, berated herself for her ill-handling of the situation. _At least I should have found out his name…_

***

Quatre woke up, clutching his now ragged shirt in cold sweat, staring grimly out at the stars. Circles of weariness and exhaustion ringed his eyes, making him look gaunt and ill-fed. Then again, he was that too. He sighed, calming himself as he glanced around him at the shivering masses of bodies laying there in abject misery. He closed his eyes again, not wanting to see it._ Heero…Dorothy, don't look for me. Don't try to find me. You'll only get yourselves killed. Protect Releena and please protect my sisters… _

Author's note: U like? Yes, no? Write a review and tell me! Or if u want, email me at [flamesofdarkness@hotmail.com][1] and I'll try to get back to you. 

   [1]: mailto:flamesofdarkness@hotmail.com



	6. Default Chapter Title

Disclaimer: Now…if I they were mine…would I REALLY need to write about them?? But if u don't recognize the names, the characters are mine.

For those of you who read Winter's Parting (thanx!) this series is bound to be much more serious, with a lot more character development and anguish. In other words: This fic will NOT be about a bed of roses. So if you hate to see your fav. Gundam pilots suffering, I don't suggest you read this fic. Thanx, and enjoy!

Dorothy stumbled onto the rocky landing, cutting her palms against the sharp bits of gundanium ore as she fell to the ground. The sun shone dimly in the distance, a brooding, foreboding sight as the newest 'recruits' were coldly shoved off their transports like a mass unloading of animals or baggage. Some were screaming, crying hysterically for their loved ones or people they had been seperated from on the trip. Dorothy did neither. She stood up coldly, her finely chiseled lips firm and unyielding though her dress was ripped and stained with the crimson evidence of blood. This was the price of battle. It was a lesson that she had learned well during the war.

"Move!" At that cracking order, they were herded into a desolately gleaming building, all made of metal rods and spires. Once inside, they were stripped to the skin by crudely sneering guards. Showerheads sprayed harsh disinfectant saturated water on the frightened masses, stinging the eyes and any lacerations like acid on the skin. Somewhere to her right, a girl whimpered in pain and embarrassment, cowering as she sobbed into her hands. Dorothy hesitated, then touched the girl's shoulder, forcing her fingers away from her eyes.

"Don't show any weakness! They'll know you're beat then!" The girl looked at her in blank terror, then whimpered again huddling closer to Dorothy as a lash hit the water near their feet.

"No talking!" The press of bodies seemed almost claustrophobic, the stink of sweat and fear tangible even after the showers were turned off. They were given a bare minute to find and dress in crude coveralls before they were led into the grand hall, forced into rows and columns. The girl was still clutching at Dorothy's shoulder tightly, her eyes wide as she cried silent tears that slid slowly down her cheeks.

Dorothy glared at her coldly, hissing, "What's your name?"

"M-mary, m-ma'am…"

"Listen, Mary. Stop snivelling like a coward and stand up straight! Do you think that your tears will get you anywhere?" Dorothy deliberately injected as much sarcasm and contempt as she could into her voice as she forced the other girl into line, glaring at her until she straightened up from her defeated slump. "We are _not_ here for a pleasure trip, Miss Mary. Remember that and act accordingly!"

Mary threw her a wounded look, helplessness crossing her face. "I-I want…" She broke down into uncontrolled sobbing and Dorothy glanced quickly around her. Sure enough a savagely smiling man was bearing down upon them, a forcewhip in his hands. He was a barrel-chested man with thick, meaty arms and a well-muscled torso. His eyes were cruel with anticipation as he towered above the weeping girl, one hand grabbing her by the collar of her shirt and shaking her ceaselessly.

"You think you're gonna cry your way through this, do ya? I don't want another sound from ya!" He slapped Mary across her cheek and she cried meowed piteously, hands upraised against further attack. 

"Please-"

"Did I give you permission to talk, you little bitch?!" He slapped her again, throwing her on the ground. 

Dorothy couldn't watch any longer demanding with imperious authority. "Really, now is that necessary, you misbegotten bastard?" He whirled towards her quickly enough, leaving his victim for another target. He sneered appraisingly at the trim body that was hidden beneath the bulky clothes.

"Why, your kinda cute, babe." He grabbed her hair, pulling her head back to face him and Dorothy spat at him, as an acrid stench wafted from his breath. "If yer nice to me, I might even letcha do somethin…easier." 

"Why thank you, but I would never deal with a cretin such as yourself!" Dorothy hissed back, kneeing him in the groin with stunning accuracy. He let go of her, doubling over in pain as the other guards roared in laughter. With a predatory smile of her own she purred, "It's men like you who give soldiers a bad name in wars. You can't fight…except to pick on those you consider helpless." 

"You _bitch!_" He raised his whip, but before it could crash down on her, a voice clipped coldly, "We need them as workers, Santos. They are _not_ to be used as your personal whores!" Dorothy narrowed her eyes, recognizing the voice though she merely let a sardonic twist touch her lips.

"So…Miss Catalonia. How are you enjoying the asteroid mining project?" 

"The flight food was slightly stale." Dorothy flung back defiantly, squaring her shoulders to meet the new threat.

"My, what spirit you have, Miss Catalonia…just like that _pilot_."

__

Quatre… "What did you do to him, you-"

"Now now, Miss Catalonia, no name calling! Your time here has already worn off that well-mannered veneer has it? Your friend is here," He smirked, "or he was here. " Dorothy refused to let her heart drop. He was a Gundam pilot. He could take care of himself…"Now, if you will excuse me, Miss Catalonia, I must address my board. Feeding and lodging accomodations, you know."

"One question, sir…" Dorothy refused to let her deadly smile drop as her eyes narrowed into shadowed slits, "Who are you again?"

The man paused, surprised, though he tried not to show it. "Kurdan Liur. Why?"

Dorothy smiled venomously, "So I will know who to kill when I get free, Mr. Liur…"

***

The beating had been worth it. Every snap of the whip. Dorothy's smile had never wavered, even as the force of the blows drove her to her knees, she had kept her coldly amused façade up. "Yuy _is _a bad influence on you, Catalonia…" she mocked herself as she slumped onto one of the beds…if it could indeed be called that. The mattress was little more than a worn cushion on top of rock with a thin rag serving as the blanket. However, it was clean and the quarters were serviceably warm. It wouldn't do for the workers to get sick, now would it?

"Hey, who're you?" A shadow fell across the doorway and Dorothy peered upwards warily, although any other person would have only seen sardonic amusement in the twist of her lips.

"I was assigned here."

The man sneered, moving over so several more people could file silently into the room, "A newbie. You're a newbie, aren't cha? Well, I'm Chris, this is the gang, Siara, Keele, and Tor. I head this work group and you're gonna work as hard as the rest of us come time to sort."

"Sorting is it?"

"Yeah." He opened his hands and in the dim lighting, Dorothy could see the crisscross scars that ran across his hands. "Sort rock from ore. Cuts the hands, makes ya bleed. But you'll toughen up soon enough."

Dorothy smirked, "I refuse to work for that organization. All they can do is beat me."

"Nah, you'll work all right." Chris's eyes were cold and determined as he regarded Dorothy, "Ya think cus you won't work, you're the only one that gets punished, sister? Aint so. One don't work, we _all_ get whipped. I ain't letting my people get whipped cuz some f*cking newbie don't wanna work." He advanced menacingly on her, but the girl, Siara, grabbed his arm, hauling him back.

"Hold up on it Chris. You won't get any more work outta her by beating the shit outta her! They _tried_ that already. Didn't you hear about the beating today? She's the girl, kept on smiling through the whole damn thing and din't say a word after."

"A girl?" Chris looked at Dorothy incredulously, and she merely shrugged, her eyes watchful. "A girl withstood that beating? Impossible!"

Dorothy snorted, "One day, Mr. Chris, I should introduce you to a man named Chang Wufei. I believe you would get along with him very well. He believes women are worthless as well."

"Chang Wu-girl, you lie. How do you know a Gundam pilot?"

Dorothy laughed rising, with some difficulty, to her feet, and swept a mocking curtsy, fingers touching her lips. "Dorothy Catalonia, at your service. Once of OZ under the Romafeller Foundation, once of the White Fang under Mr. Milliardo Peacecraft, now the protector and companion of Miss Releena Dorlain in the Sanq Kindom." She stood up, her eyes sardonic. "After such a history, sir, a little beating such as that cannot hurt too much."

The others were looking at her in awkward amazement, trying to decide whether she was lying or not before Siara counter, "Well, Miss High and Mighty, whatcha doin in the dregs with us common folk?"

Dorothy shrugged evasively, "I had a mission I was to complete upon finding this base." She looked around her and laughed sarcastically, "Well, I found it. Now I'm not sure what I'm to do. My instructions did not include the possibility of capture, since it is believed by my colleagues that the ship I was currently on contained the best technological advances ever."

Siara smiled cynically, "Yeah, probably the best _legal_ crap, but we ain't dealing with that crowd anymore, Miss Dorothy."

"Please, Dorothy will do." Dorothy looked around her, then back at them, "It seems I am as much a prisoner in this wretched place as you are."

They looked at her warily before Chris gestured dismissively at her. "Whatever. Just remember, Dorothy, ya goin ta do the work that we do." 

She hesitated, then nodded curtly, "It seems I must, since Miss Releena does not like her companions being the cause of pain to other people. I assure you that I am able enough to do my own share."

"Thas all we need to know." The others had relaxed slightly at the release from tension amongst them. "Now flip on yer stomach. Ya got some nasty cuts there an' if we don't treat em' now, no any assurances they won't get infected later. We need every one here to work every day, sick r' not."

Dorothy did as she was told, her platinum blonde hair obscuring her features as the fell around her face in a golden veil. "Really," Her voice was dry, but there was a touch of genuine friendliness that few understood in her voice, "You are _much _too kind."

"Shaddup."

Author's Notes:

Wow, really dark here in comparison to the other parts. I don't know what came over me, just feeling kinda depressed, I guess. Totally NOT like my usual self! Dorothy's majorly OOC cuz I didn't know how to portray them in this kind of situation, so I tried my best! PLEASE REVIEW THIS!!! I'm getting slightly discouraged at the lack of reviews guys, so I might just start another series instead of finishing this one. Give me your flames, criticisms, comments, etc. 


	7. Default Chapter Title

Disclaimer: not mine. Enough said.

It's a start.

THREE WEEKS ON THE ASTERIOD…

Dorothy swiftly separated the rocks into two piles: granite and ore. She let her gaze linger over the ore for a second longer: a sparkling mass of metal probably worth well over a few million dollars. She smiled sardonically as she banged her palm against the side of the cart, signaling Siara to take it to the main central ore refinery. Someone certainly thought it meant more than human life, she thought, wiping the sweat from her brow, unknowingly leaving a streak of blood there as well.

She glanced at her palms, cut into ribbons but the sharpness of stone and grimaced slightly. It couldn't be helped. The only thing that kept her working, kept her struggling, was that ever-present desire for revenge…and Quatre. Vainly, she glanced around her at the toiling people, looking for the familiar sight of blonde hair similar to her own, blue eyes that glowed with childish innocence. All she was pain.

"Hey, Doll-child!" Dorothy looked up, instinctively catching the satchel of more rocks as Chris hurled it towards her. She stumbled a little as it slammed painfully into her side, but managed to right herself before dumping the load in front of her workplace. 

"Rocks," she picked on up, twirling it expertly in her fingers so the sun caught highlighted facets of gundanium ore that was wedged into plain stone and began another pile from scratch. As she worked busily, she glanced at Tor, who was lagging behind in his counting. His fingers were moving slower than usual, earning him more than a few whip-slashes from an overseer. He had been here about three months before her, caught as he was delivering a load of iron to one of the rival companies. His face was gaunt with weariness and illness and a blur was developing in his eyes. He couldn't seem to see straight anymore. As his fingers slowed a fifth time, the whip came singing, striking him across the back. 

"Hurry _up_!" These whips. They didn't even leave a mark where they hit, but oh the pain that came with it…Dorothy watched Tor's face screw into a grimace of agony before he attempted to speed up production, making many mistakes in his sorting. He'd be punished for that too, later. Dorothy hesitated for a second, then, cursing Releena and the pacifistic nature that had rubbed somewhat on her, she snaked out a hand, towing three-fourth of Tor's load towards her own pile even as she kept on sorting. Tor looked up in surprised stupor, but Dorothy only glared at him, motioning him to go faster. He nodded, too tired to be grateful, and finished his own pile more quickly.

Dorothy tried to ignore the stitch that was developing in her side as she separated rocks. _I wonder what the court would do if they saw me now? _She thought in feline amusement _Proper, prim Miss Dorothy Catalonia. Touching rocks and sorting dirt_.She laughed sardonically, tossing another rock onto the waste pile. _This labor has put so many things in perspective…especially when _you're _the one working, doesn't it, Dorothy? _She grabbed another sack and shoved the debris off, upending another bag. A rock snagged on the fabric of her sleeve, tearing a part of the coveralls as well as some of the skin. She winced tossing the offending rock and throwing it away with barely concealed annoyance. _Damn rocks_.

After another few hours of working, break was called via a harsh squealing bell. The work gang slumped down, deathly tired as the meal was passed between them. It wasn't much, a slab of bread almost as hard as the rock they were sorting, a drink of water, a thin slice of, dare anyone call it, meat. Dorothy took half of her bread, chewing it with single-minded stubbornness until it finally softened enough to go down. Tor picked listlessly at his food, and Dorothy jabbed him, hard. 

"Eat, you won't get another chance."

Tor glanced at her and shoveled another piece of food into his mouth. "Doesn't matter anyway. We're all gonna die here." Dorothy smirked, not letting go of her façade for a second.

"Is that so, Tor? For your information, I am going to stay very much alive, thank you. And when I get out of here, I am going to slice Mr. Luir into tiny bite size pieces and fry them in dough using one of Miss Releena's sauce pans. Then, I'll personally distribute it out to anyone who wants a bite of him. How does that sound, Mr. Tor?" The others laughed wearily with her.

"You've got a hell of a sense of humor there, Doll-child." Chris shredded his bread into little bits. 

"Humor? Oh no, Chris. I _fully_ intend to live to see him die." Dorothy smiled viciously around a mouthful of food. "And I'm going to do it myself. See if I don't." 

Before anyone else could say anything, a voice suddenly yelled, "Move it! What's the hold up!" Dorothy glanced coolly around to see what was going on. A young blonde haired man stumbled over a ridge, dropping his sack as he slumped wearily to the ground. "Move it!" He didn't even seem to notice the overseer as he slammed the whip against his shoulderblades, shuddering a little with exhaustion. "Huh. Ain't enough, is it?"

"Poor fool. E' ain't got the strength t'get up." Siara said softly, "He's just all worked out…"

Dorothy didn't pay attention. The bread had slipped between her nerveless fingers as she stared in horror at the sight before her. "_Quatre!_"

***

Quatre didn't care anymore. He hurt everywhere…even more so than he had hurt in any battle with OZ, the Bartons, and the White Fang, _combined_. He felt the whip descend on his back again and shuddered at the impact, barely feeling it but for the pain. _Allah damn this. _He though wearily, refusing to get up, _I'm so tired…_

Another shadow had joined the first. "He ain't gonna get up. Done fer anyway…"

Quatre smiled, the first touch of cynicism ever touching his lips, making him old before he had a chance to be young. _They finally figure it out…_ He thought sarcastically, bangs plastered to his forehead with sweat. 

"Yah…" The cool metal of a saber rested ominously at his back and Quatre braced himself, waiting for the bullet to explode. He didn't care anymore. _Please, please let this be a merciful death. That's all I ask…_

Suddenly he heard a scrabble ensue, a vaguely familiar female voice screaming in war-fury. He looked up and saw a halo of three figures fighting before sleep drew him downwards…

***

END.

Just kidding. I'm sorry, I have a morbid sense of humor today. Keep on reading!

Dorothy slapped one of the guards across the face, purposefully raking her sharp cat-like nails across his face as she kicked him to the ground. She grabbed the first thing that she could find, a ore-mining pick, and twirled it maliciously, swinging it at another guard who dodged just in time. The pick tore through his clothes, but otherwise, did nothing else to harm him.

"Hello boys. Thought I wouldn't notice when you tried to kill him, did you?" Dorothy hissed, eyes narrowed into cold slits. She stood protectively over Quatre, pick in one hand as the other curled itself into a parody of a cat's claw. Her hair sprayed wildly across her face, locks of hair twisted across her face and back as she smiled savagely, looking for all the world like a demon and a guardian angel at the same time. 

The guards gave her a wide berth, unsure of whether to fire upon her or not. For one thing, they were supposed to make sure she remained alive to be used as a hostage against Releena Peacecraft, but they had never anticipated this…. She suddenly leaped at them, slashing one of the guards across the face so he dropped his saber and amazingly, she laughed as she used a foot and flipped the hilt into her palm, the pick dropping with a dull clatter at her feet.

"Ah, child of my hand!" She admired the flawless workmanship of the blade for a second before leveling the tip at her attackers. A dangerous calm drew itself across her face, even as she smiled dangerously. "I'm waiting…gentlemen." The two guards glanced at each other, then at their fallen companion before lunging at her with their own forcewhips, sending them singing at her unprotected face. She parried, slicing against the metalloid enhanced whips as she let them wrap around her blade. With a deft twist of her hand, they fell like writhing snakes to the dirt floor.

The guards snapped them up, trying for another attack as Dorothy smiled calmly as if she was only in another practice bout with her teacher. After all, they were incompetent as soon as someone tried to fight back. She risked a glance at Quatre, who was shivering uncontrollably as he succumbed to starvation/exhaustion based fever. For a moment her face softened into what could have been termed tenderness before the mask slipped back on.

She would protect him. At _all_ cost.

Author's note: K, real ending right there kiddos! A little bit of romance, but I know, not enough. Not yet, anyway. Look out for it the next chapter! Next installment will probably be tonight…*glances up at sky*…er…_later_ tonight, at any rate. Or maybe tomorrow. Depends on whether my parents drag me out for a "family/friends dinner". Grr, hate those. I'm always the only kid there! Hope you enjoyed it!s


	8. Default Chapter Title

Disclaimer: I own nothing of Gundam but the memories of the contentment they bring…

Ooh. How'dja like the way I left off the last time? *evil grin* sorry, I'm in a purely mischievous mood tonight, soo…what can I say but…bwahahahahah- *choke, cough, sputter* I think something went down the wrong way. *makes a face* Great. Ruin my evil laughter. *pouts* Anyways, here's da um…one two three four… *indecipherable muttering* eighth! See I can count! Eighth part of my fic! Enjoy greatly, people!

The combatants squared off against one another, the woman smiling with cold confidence, the two men fiddling nervously with their whips…no one had told them they were to deal with a psychopath. And how could they do it without killing her in the process? Suddenly, she seemed to grow weary of waiting for an offensive attack, lunging at them with an unconcealed thirst for revenge, her blue eyes, normally ice, blazing with exultation as her sword found its mark, imbedding itself to the hilt in the man's shoulder. He gave a numbed cry, dropping his whip even as Dorothy yanked out the blade, grabbing another would-be attacker by the throat.

"Always a bad, _bad_ idea to harm those close to me…_dear_." His eyes bulged out as he gasped for in a futile attempt to breathe as he clawed helpless at her tightening fist. Suddenly a stab of pain at her side made Dorothy hiss, though she did not release the man. "Damn! I should have_ killed_ you when I had the chance!" The other guard had grabbed the pick, stabbing her in the side even though he was still on his belly, face tight with pain and terror.

She kicked aside the weapon and slammed her foot against his head, knocking it against the unyieldingly rocky ground. This time, he stayed still, unmoving but for the slight rise and fall of his chest. She turned her attention back to the man whose throat she had in her hand. "Now…tell me what I should do to you…"

"Enough!" An authoritative figure strode onto the scene and Dorothy smiled cruelly to herself. 

"Why, Mr. Luir…coming out to witness the day's entertainment, are we?" Dorothy literally purred, still not releasing the guard. Her blade gleamed a wet crimson, flashing a deathly warning to the man. It was held only inches from Quatre's prone body in an unmistakably protective gesture, almost like a phoenix mantling over its young.

"Catalonia…" There was an answering growl in his voice as he glanced at the damage she had caused to his employees, two men unconscious on the ground and the last still choking from her deathgrip. "Really, Miss Dorothy, must you disturb _everything_ in my well-oiled machine?" The veneer of sophistication was there, but his expression portrayed one of keen frustration as a tick started at his temple.

"Of course, Mr. Luir. What else would I do for fun?" She countered, watching him warily. Several men were detaching from their individual positions to come forward slowly to surround her and Quatre. If she surrendered, it was quite likely that she and Quatre would both die. If she kept on fighting, she would die. The third option was to keep him talking…something that Dorothy did very quickly, though she didn't lose her calm. She smirked and tossed her dust-covered hair. "Besides, you should thank me, you know. I just stopped your guards from killing your greatest asset."

A black brow rose over silver eyes. "Really. Miss Catalonia, I'm _dying _to know how you figure this."

"Simple, Mr. Luir. Consider who Mr. Winner is. The heir to Winner Corp, one of the largest manufacturing and retail companies in the known galaxy. Now, consider who he is to a few very important people. An acquaintance of Mr. Heero Yuy, who is a Gundam pilot, a trusted friend of Miss Releena's Dorlain, the epitome and leader of the World Sphere Alliance, and _my_" She gestured to herself with a mocking curtsy, "protector and savior aboard the Libra four years ago. Now…if he ever died on this misbegotten dirtball, do you think _any_ of us would _ever_ hesitate to destroy you?" Dorothy laughed unpleasantly. "Best hope that I get to you first, Mr. Luir. Yuy would not bother with a fair fight."

Luir's complexion had turned somewhat pale beneath his tan, though he covered it well. "Nonsense. No one will ever find out about our operations, Miss Catalonia. You put too much confidence in your friends." An animal can smell fear. There was fear in his eyes, real fear and uncertainty; Dorothy pounced on it with the cold accuracy of a cat toying with a mouse.

"Is that so, Mr. Luir?" A cultured brow rose over her own eye as she mirrored his cool confidence from before. _I've got you now, Luir_._ You're fear gives you away… _"You think you can ever sleep well knowing that Yuy is out for your blood trail? Or that Miss Releena would ever stop scouring the universe for you? What does she have at her fingers? The Preventors? The rest of the Gundam pilots? Even the colonies bow at her fingers, Mr. Luir. You're already a dead man. You just don't know it yet. Now…if you kill Quatre," Dorothy's face hardened into diamond, "You will have just lost the final bargaining chip you possess." 

"No, you-"

"Miss Releena might not like it that you kill me…but Yuy," She smirked again, "Frankly, Yuy doesn't give a damn about me, Mr. Luir. After all, I've tried to kill him on more than one occasion. Heero cares about those he considers friends, though…or maybe Trowa Barton will get to you first. Do you know Quatre's the only one that's succeeded in getting him to laugh? And Barton does _not_ laugh." If anything, Luir got paler, his hands, which had been clenched, fell limply at his sides as he tried to imagine what the famed pilot of HeavyArms would do to him. He did not like it.

Luir hesitated for a moment, the brusquely gestured for the guards to take Quatre into custody. "Bring him in. We'll doctor him in-"

"No." Dorothy's saber arm raised again. "You see, I don't trust you, Mr. Luir. I will take him into my care and _you_," She gestured with her saber, "will bring exactly the medicines, water, and food that he needs. If you attempt to poison him or otherwise drug him," Eyes glinted, "I will bathe in your blood and use your innards as my sponge…while you are still alive. I will cut out your heart, and I will marinate it slowly in garlic and red wine. Then, and only after I've tortured you in every single possible way that I can, will I allow you to die, _slowly_."

He was sweating now, and not from the heat of day either. He nodded curtly, then paused. "Miss Catalonia…release my guard immediately." Dorothy smiled in ill-concealed victory as she turned her head to regard the man in her fist thoughtfully. He was turning slightly blue around the lips, his tongue trailing as he tried to take in more air.

"Of course…Mr. Luir."

***

Quatre moaned feverishly, tossing his head side to side. He was bundled in grudgingly given sheets and Dorothy smiled at him, concern written on her face. "Sh…Sh…Sleep Quatre. You're safe…" She wrung out the water in the bucket, carefully letting it dribble into Quatre's mouth. "You'll be all right…I'm here." She felt the shadows at her back, and ignored them, all her attention centered on the ill man.

He had grown so thin, his skin peeled and bloody from lashes and the harsh lacerations of rock. Dorothy held his hand, soothing the restless movements of his fingers. There was no trace of blood fury and madness that had been coursing through her only a second before. The saber was discarded at the foot of her bed…or Quatre's bed now. Her hands, gentle and loving, carefully cleaned at his dirt caked wounds, prying the stiff dirt encrusted coveralls off to dress him in something warmer, and less harsh on the skin. _I've found you now…nothing's going to hurt you._

"So…this is the pilot of that Sandrock Gundam, eh, Doll-child? Or should I go back to callin' ya Miss Cat'lonia?" Dorothy looked up at him, a residue of compassion on her face even as her mask slipped back on.

"Really, Chris. That is hardly necessary, now is it?" Dorothy glared at them in mock annoyance. "I give a little performance out there and you're ready to fall at my feet?" Chris laughed, as did the others as they took up positions around the room, watching the usually ruthless woman tend to someone else with unconcealed tenderness.

"So," Siara broke the silence, leaning against the doorjamb. "You two's lovers?" 

Dorothy started, then glared at her. "No, Siara, we are not." _Not that you wouldn't mind if you were, would you Dorothy?_ "We are merely good friends." _Too bad you weren't closer._

Quiet, you foolish voice!

Siara smirked, not at all fazed. "Sure look like lovers t'me, Doll." 

Tor agreed, tapping the side of his head. "These eyes m'be getting' old, Doll-child, but they still see more'n 'friendship' w'you's two." 

Dorothy sighed. How could almost total strangers read what even her close friends only _suspected_? She smiled at them wryly, brushing back platinum blonde bangs from Quatre's anguish twisted face. Her heart almost broke as she instinctively sought to soothe the frown off his face, stroking his cheek gently. "He thinks I'm kind." Dorothy raised her eyes to them. "He thinks I am a kind person. Nothing more."

"Kind?!" Chris barked a little in disbelief, "Nuttin' else?"

Dorothy shook her head, returning her gaze to his pale face. She smoothed the crow's feet that had developed at the corner of his eyes. "Nothing more, nothing less." There was a tinge of barely perceptible sadness in her voice. "He said that four years ago, just before he told me to continue to live. I didn't want to then. I wanted to die…go out, in a blaze of glory." She laughed, a little chokingly, "I was so foolish…"

"You's a kind person, Doll." Siara put a work roughened hand on Dorothy's shoulder, "You just dunno hows ta express yerself yet, tha's all. Ain't hard ta see y'love 'im."

Dorothy smiled wearily. "I am a Catalonia, Siara. In our family, it is known that a Catalonia only love once, no matter what she leads others to believe. In that one time…it is an eternal love."

"So why you don'tcha tell 'im?"

"There's another part to that saying." Dorothy's eyes hardened into ice, a lone tear slipping down her cheek. "Catalonias never find love."

Author's note: Oooh. So how's that for romance *twirls happily* So that's it for now. So Rhiannon, you may NOT kill me!! End me…she says…*grumble grumble* So, tell me what you think guys! I'm always open to r&r!!s


	9. Default Chapter Title

Disclaimer: I've just taken over Sunrise Asahi and now own all the Gundam Wing paraphernalia. However, until they officially hand over control to me, we'll all have to make do with these fics. *sighs sadly.* So you can't sue me or try to strangle me just yet! Here's

__

PAIN! FEAR! TERROR! Chaotic emotions wrecked havoc in his mind, and he choked, refusing to scream. It hurt…but he was a Gundam pilot. He could handle it. If only it weren't for that darkness. _Why can't I see anything? What's going on? _Blindly, he lunged towards any lead out of the insanity that drove into his mind, but every rope seemed to turn into a venomous viper, spitting and hissing, or just dropped off into nowhere_. Where is this? I have to be strong…_

Someone hovered at the edge of the shadows, whispers from a familiar voice with an unfamiliar overlay of anxiety. He had heard this voice before…had heard it many times. In it's own way, it was as cherished as his own life…if only he could remember…

__

Who are you?

Hush… sleep…

No! I need to…

Sleep Quatre…Cold fingers brushed against his forehead, a welcome change from the heat that seemed to permeate his whole body. He shuddered, twisting into the touch, wanting the firm tactile contact almost as much as he welcomed the coolness it brought. When she was there, he felt safer, more secure…she showed no signs of wanting to leave, smoothing a wet cloth against his face and murmuring soft, nonsensical words.

__

Sleep. You'll be fine. I'm here. You don't have to be worried. He smiled, withdrawing from his semiconscious state back into fitful slumber. The nightmares didn't seem so bad anymore as a single beam of light seemed to reach out to envelop him. Protecting him, gently drawing him back into the cradle of the living…

***

Dorothy watched, heart twisting, as Quatre cried out from the dreams his fever brought. She soothed his brow awkwardly, cursing the strange emotions coursing through her. They shouldn't be there. She wasn't supposed to feel this…she had made _sure_ she wouldn't feel this. She had made sure to always act cordial, always act with carefully distanced warmth. So when did fire spring where only an ember had glowed before? Dorothy sighed. She was so confused, but confusion had no place in her life. Quatre was a _friend_ and nothing more than that; she wouldn't risk their relationship by telling him about her feelings.

"Doll-child!" Chris's shadow loomed at the door, and Dorothy turned around, fingers instinctively curling around the hilt of her purloined saber before she saw who he was. "Time t'get workin'!" Dorothy nodded, rising reluctantly to her feet. With a final glance at Quatre she turned to Tor. He tipped his head back and looked into her eyes, cold and determined as she brushed the oily locks of hair out of her face.

"Take care of him, Tor. My trust is not given easily and if you hurt him..."

"No one betrays a Cat'lonia's trust an' lives t'tell bout it. Aye, I know that, Doll-child. Y'g'wan an' work now. I'll make sure he don't get worse." Dorothy looked into his unwavering face before nodding once curtly, spinnng on her heel to stalk out of the small quarters. The sun was shining harshly down on her face, almost blinding as the light refracted off the metals to bounce every which way in a white glare. Dorothy looked around her; the loathing for this abominable place had only grown, festering deep within her every passing day. She narrowed her eyes furiously before setting to work with a vengeance, savagely tossing the rocks into uneven piles before gesturing Siara to move it out.

Every day they stayed was a smaller and smaller possibility of rescue and sooner or later, Luir would recognize that. In that case, she and Quatre became expendable…something she didn't want to see happen. _We've got to get out of here, but at the same time, how will I be able to justify to Miss Releena my leaving these people? _She unloaded another pile of rock. _Impossible. I am a soldier…not a savior. That is the job of the Gundam pilots. I follow the orders given to me…but there are no orders. Damn you Yuy, are you going to fail on your first mission ever?!_

There was no answer of course, not that an answer was expected. A cynical smile curved Dorothy's lips as she twirled a chunk of Gundanium in her fingers, ignoring the new lacerations that appeared on her fingers. "Well, I assume this means I will have to deal with this myself." Blood dripped from her hand, blazing with crimson promise before falling to the dust. 

The first drop spilled from her fingers, touching the dirt as it slowly seeped into the earth, a perfect circle that slowly turned auburn in the sweltering air. A sudden memory came to mind. A man standing trial for the crimes he had committed against the Romefellar foundation had been tried, not by a military court, but by Soldier's Law. When one was tried by the Law and found guilty, the victims of the crime chose the punishment…it was usually a very _painful_ punishment as well. Mentally, she recited the Oath, changing it slightly to fit her situation as she watched the blood as it welled on her fingers, bleeding profusely. 

__

By blood you are accused. First, for the bonds you have broken. The cherished bonds to your fellow man, the bonds you hold to the community in which you live, and the bonds placed upon you from your conception.

A second drop followed the first.

__

By blood you are tried, tried for your crimes. The crime of cruelty for your own gain, the crime of indifference to the death you met out to man, the crime of the agony you burden upon the one who holds my heart. 

Frozen eyes narrowed, following the last drop to the ground. It splashed against the uneven terrain, breaking into smaller droplets that glistened individually as they glared defiantly back up at her.

__

By blood, you stand condemned. Condemned once, condemned a thousand_ times, for the blood you force from _me.My_ body, _my _hands. With this blood, I reclaim what is mine, my hands, my touch, my _**soul**_. You stand condemned, and may it be by my hands that you fall! _

Dorothy smiled savagely, throwing the rock into the cart with unnecessary force. It clattered noisily as it hit against the steel sides, the walls indenting slightly from the force of the blow. "Mr. Luir…what I said was true the first time. You _are_ a dead man."

***

"Where _are _they?" Releena turned anxious blue eyes on her lover. "Heero, where is Dorothy? She should have reported in by now…shouldn't she have?" Heero watched silently as Releena paced frantically back and forth in front of her desk, worrying her hair restlessly. Her face was drawn up in furrowed lines and she had taken to carrying a portable vidphone just in case any new developments came up.

"Where _is_ she, Heero?" Releena asked, glancing at the corner in which Heero had been leaning against the wall, "Heero?" Where he had once been was only the creamy color of her wall, bathed in shadows. She sighed, half in exasperation, half in worry. "Why do you always do that, Heero?"

***

Silently, a pair of Prussian blue eyes stared sightlessly at the stars. _My mission…no, my _life_…is dedicated to protecting Releena. I swore to never leave her side again. But Quatre is a… a friend…isn't he?_

"Hey, Heero, what the hell are ya doing, freezing your ass off up here?" A mischievous face popped into sight followed by a braid and a black-clad body. "Damn, you would just _have_ to take the highest roof in the whole Sanq kingdom, now wouldn't you?" Heero didn't respond, watching as Duo brushed himself and carelessly sprawl on the rooftop. "So, wussup?"

"Dorothy hasn't reported."

Duo nodded, "Yeah. Heard about that. It's driving 'jousan nuts, so she's cracking down on the Preventors." Heero didn't say anything, just silently acknowledged that fact with a brusque nod. "So Heero old buddy…whatcha gonna do 'bout it?"

"…"

Duo raised a brow at the apathetic Japanese pilot, tossing his braid over his shoulder. "O-kay…that's not the answer I expected." Duo scratched his head, "Or…maybe I shouldn't be surprised. What's holding you back from blazing after them with the big guns, Heero?"

"Releena."

Duo cringed. "Oh yeah, 'jousan. Forgot about that…"

"Hn." The two boys sat silently on the roof of the Peacecraft mansion, staring into the space that had been their birthplace.

"It's beautiful, isn't it Heero? You'd never see the moon like this in space…" There was a half grin on the young American's face. "Not that you'd ever bother to look, eh?" 

Heero glanced at Duo's cheerful countenance. _How can he laugh, after all he's been through? Is he even more foolish than we all believed him to be?_ "What are you planning to do, Duo?"

Duo shrugged, pure Shinigami evilness twinkling in his violet eyes, "What else?? Go up there and kick some ass, Shinigami style!" Duo laughed, falling on his back, his hands tucked behind his head as he watched the stars streak across the sky, "Blow up a few factories…show 'em how the God of Death works."

"I thought the God of Death had hung up his scythe."**

"Well…lets just say he makes exceptions when it comes to friends." Duo smirked, "Besides, Hilde's coming along for the ride too. Tried to get her to stay at home, but she said something about not becoming the perfect little housewife just because we lived together." Heero smiled very slightly before the mask of indifference settled once again across his features.

"Heero," There was a sudden seriousness in Duo's voice as he glanced at the Zero pilot, "Talk to ojousan about it. The mission, I mean. I think you're underestimating her again." Heero 's brow rose in a question, but Duo was already standing up, his usual cocky grin plastered to his face. "Well…I'll be seein' you, old buddy! Wish me luck! Not that the God of Death needs it or anything…" Heero snorted as Duo jumped off his perch on the roof.

A few seconds later, there was a crash and a well rounded curse. "Damn, who put the trashcans here?! It wasn't here the _last_ time I climbed this stupid roof! I'm gonna have to talk to ojousan about this…stupid trashcans…"

Author's note: did I spell ojousan right? I'm not quite sure, since I'm not Japanese and I don't really _know_ Japanese. So, that's it in a nutshell kids! Yeah, I know the tone's been pretty serious up to now, but I couldn't resist the trashcan thing. It was just screaming to me "MAKE HIM JUMP! MAKE HIM JUMP!"

Duo: *smelling of trash* Why do you always pick on me?!

Sable: "smiling innocently* Cuz I love you.

Duo: You coulda fooled me!

Sable: Without you, my fics would be long and boring. Your suffering adds an element of tension relief in them.

Duo: *sarcastically* Gee, thanks. But if you remember, Trowa's the clown around here!

Trowa: …

Sable: Nah! He's a sad clown. You're always happy! *hugs Duo, then steps back as the stink hits her* go take a shower Duo. You stink.

Duo: *stalking towards the restrooms* It's your fault anyway!

*Sable smiles, then waves at her readers* I'm done with this part of the fic! Thank you all for making me feel warm and fuzzy when you bother to review! *dances happily* Yep, finished with this part. So, is perfect-soldier-boy going, or is his first responsibility to Releena-sama first? Heh heh, only the author knows *mysterious smile*. I luv y'guys! Your reviews make my day, so R&R please it!

** something that Duo said in Ch. VIII of Winter's parting while he was trying to convince Heero to go back to Releena.


	10. Default Chapter Title

Disclaimer: Not mine. Is it yours? How much would it cost? *picks at the lint in her pocket?*

*Sable nods happily at NightHeart.* Yep. You picked up on that, didn't you? In case any one else wants to know, I'm talking about the Soldier's Oath from the last chapter. The idea is taken from an Oathbreaker spell that Kethry used in Oathbound by Mercedes Lackey. She is my number one author and I totally, totally _love_ her work! I just read that particular series, so a lot of the implications are there. Well, that's my miscellaneous bit of info for today! Now for the feature presentation:

She was sleeping. Heero slipped in her window with the moonlight, drawing the pane shut with a definite click. Only a hint of light filtered through the translucent curtains, gleaming and dancing in her honey blonde hair like mischievous sprites. Her face, innocent, yet wise, was relaxed in her slumber and Heero smiled slightly as he noticed the object clutched tightly in her arms. It was a small bear with fur downy soft and white as the first winter's snow. It's blue eyes gleamed like two points of light, almost exactly the same color as Releena's own, and clutched to it's chest was a satin-black heart with the simple words _Aishiteru_ printed in silver thread embossed in it. 

She had thrown away the last gift he had given her when he had broken her heart again. So he had bought her a new one, white for the strength, purity, and innocence he saw in her. Predictably, she had cried upon receiving it. Unlike the other times however, they had been tears of joy, something that Heero wanted her to continue to feel. _But_…He sighed quietly, seating himself lightly on the edge of her bed, a finger tracing the contours of her beloved face, her eyes, her classic Grecian cheekbones, her softly tinted lips…he lived only to see her smile again, and she knew that. That was the understanding that reached deeper than words.

"Heero?" Her slepy voice emerged amidst tousled blonde hair as she reacted to his touch, a pair of cobalt blue eyes peering drowsily up at him. "What're you doing here, Heero?"

"Quatre's and Dorothy have been listed officially missing."

Releena sighed, sitting up in bed. She had expected this, hadn't wanted to think that this could happen, but she knew her perfect soldier too well. He protected what was his with a cold passion, whether it be lover or friend. "You want to go after them, don't you Heero?" Releena leaned against him, her arms clasping loosely about his waist. She had been thinking about this for a long time and still, she could only feel torn at Heero's unspoken question. 

She didn't want to lose him again. She had only found him, but Dorothy and Quatre were her friends…her _best_ friends. They had always been there for her, whether it had been through depression, or through another board meeting. When she had sunk into the depths of hellish misery, it had been those two who had gone on their self-assigned mission to find Heero and bring her life back again. And Heero wanted to go…wanted to go badly. Even if he _didn't_ admit it to her, he wanted to find his friend.

Releena smiled sadly to herself. There was really no choice…it had already been decided for her. Brushing back his soft moss brown hair from his face, she cupped his cheek, saying simply, "Come back to me, Heero?"

He didn't answer. The perfect soldier made no promises he could not keep. There was a slight, warm pressure against her lips, and then he was gone without a trace, leaving as silently as he had come. Releena sighed absently, hugging the white bear to her tightly.

"I love you, Heero. Don't do anything foolish…" She picked up the book she had been reading, her eyes falling on a single line of script on the last page.

__

"You do not hobble your hound, your horse, your hawk, your lover, or your she'nedren. Love must live free." ~ Mercedes Lackey

***

*_she'nedren_: I guess the equivalent would be "sister" but it's more of an adoptive sister sworn by blood and approved by the Goddess. Sheesh, this is hard to explain. Yeah, well, that's basically what it means.

K' Some people got a little pissed when Releena threw away the bear in Winter's parting. So I decided to have Heero get her another one. Even though this is essentially a DC X QW story, I'm still adding in sentimental parts for my favorite couple!! I know this is a really short, dare I call it, chapter, but I'm really busy tonight. Also, I would like to respond to a flame I got recently:

__

HOW DARE YOU DO A DOROTHY/QUATRE FIC????? even though i love hy/rp and dm/hs, THAT IS STILL NO REASON TO DO ONE OF THESE!!!! I WOULD RATHER SUPPORT 3+4 THAN SUUPORT QRW/DC!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

And as for the review by ruby red dragon, I DO dare to do a Dorothy / Quatre fic. I like them as a couple, even if YOU don't. And I don't think you have a right to criticize me on my tastes. Although you may hate Dorothy, or Quatre, or both of them, I do like Dorothy because she's much stronger and much more KIND than anyone believes. I asked for flames, (I think I got one), so I'm just responding and taking your review into consideration, as I said I would. Unfortunately, I don't think I'll stop this fic just because you don't like it. I'm sorry. But perhaps you may wish to refrain from reading this series from now on. And on a side note, there is nothing wrong with Trowa and Quatre pairings at all. In fact, I've read some very good fics that have that pairing. I'm only using Dorothy and Quatre as my main characters because _I want to. _Thank you. ~FierySable

R&R please. And yes, I'm still accepting flames J . It's only fair, of course.


	11. Default Chapter Title

Disclaimer: Not mine, not mine, not mine…don't rub it in!!

K, just wanna say thanx to Jason M. Lee fore telling me how to write "ojou-san"! Yay! I've learned a new word today, so I'm happy. About the last chapter, sorry for the major ranting spree, guys. I have a short temper, and even though I accept flames, I _don't_ like 'em! J So…on with the show! (hey, that rhymes!)

Heero ran towards the shuttle, slowing down as he saw three figures standing before him, obviously waiting. Duo smirked, tossing away his soda can as he stood up. "What took you so long, He-man? We were about to leave without you." Hilde nodded to Heero as well and Trowa straightened from his slouch against the wall.

"Let's go." Trowa walked with catlike ease into the hatchway, settling into the pilot's seat with practiced ease as he started the engines.

Heero's eyes narrowed. _Who's going to protect Releena?_

Duo seemed to read his mind and glanced at Heero casually. "Worried about 'jousan? Don't. Fei and Sally called in the Calvary. The Peacecraft mansion is officially the Preventor's favorite hangout, as of…" Duo glanced at his watch, "five minutes ago." As if to underscore his words, a drove of black and brown clad men and women shot out of the bush, heading towards the mansion with remarkable alacrity.

One of them stopped in front of them gun upraised and eyes narrowed before he recognized the features of the pilots. He snapped a hasty salute before dodging back into the bushes, disappearing into the surrounding folliage. Duo grinned. "Hey…guess the Wu-man's finally found his calling in life. A teacher."

__

Wufei trained them? Then…Heero nodded brusquely before leaping into the shuttle's copilot seat, flipping on the Pathfinding system. He was immediately absorbed in the flickering lights and numbers that flashed from the screen, ignoring Duo's exclamation of annoyance. The faster he completed this mission, the faster he could return home. And in the end, that was all that mattered.

***

Dorothy looked at the sun's ray's the heat beating against her. Her normally pale face had become dark with tan, her hands, once lily-soft, had become hardened by calluses and scars. She smiled in slight relief as the claxon rang for midday, tossing the last rock into the cart with a clattering bang as she went to check on Quatre. He was getting better every day, lacerations sealing on themselves, his fever receding. Quatre's periods of pure lucidity were still rare, although he subconsciously fought his illness with the stubbornness of a Winner and a Gundam pilot.

"Hey Doll-child, five minutes! Dat's it!" Chris held up five fingers for emphasis and Dorothy nodded, a slightly mocking smile curving her lips.

"Understood, Chris. I'll be out in five minutes…_after _I've checked on Quatre, of course." He gave her an exasperated glare, but she merely cocked an eyebrow back, ducking into the housing quarters. She sat by the pilot, tucking the blankets closer around him. The lines around his face had relaxed somewhat as rest took away his exhaustion and delirium. The first few days had been the worst as Quatre had rambled almost nonstop about everything varying from his business endeavors to nerveless terror at the time he had been controlled by Zero, induced to wipe a whole colony from the map.

In those few days, Dorothy learned more of Quatre's past than she ever wished to, his pain, his fears…but there was one thing he never spoke about, even in his fever dreams. That meant that the subject was quite unimportant to him. Dorothy sighed quietly, even as she changed his cold compress. 

__

After today, he might not even need it anymore…his fever is almost totally broken as it is…. Dorothy felt Quatre's forehead, reassured by the cool clammy feel of his skin, much better than the fever ridden flush that had been there before. She checked his other wounds quickly, and when she found them healing, she covered him back up, rocking back on her heels. She smiled, talking quietly to him, although she was quite sure he couldn't hear her as she retrieved some of the pain-relieving medication from the rickety table, deftly measuring a single teaspoon out

"Good morning, Mr. Winner. Or should I say good afternoon?" Eyes gleamed in sardonic amusement, even though they were fixed on the mixture of medicine before her, "Either way, of course. However, it would be quite beneficial if you would get up. Really, Quatre, if we both could survive those two wars, don't you think such an insignificant incident in our lives should cause your collapse?" She almost didn't hear the slight hacking in his breath or the shuffle of his sheets as she turned around.

He was sitting up, his eyes slightly unfocused and more than a little dazed as he stared at the unfamiliar surroundings, a shaky hand going to his forehead. "O-of course not…Miss Dorothy. R-really…w-we know each other…better than that…right?" Dorothy's mouth opened slightly as Quatre smiled weakly from his position on the bed, a quick flash of relief lighting her customarily cynical expression before the mask slipped over her features again.

The mockery was back full force, one gray eyebrow raised over an ice blue orb as she tossed back her grime-matted hair. "Welcome back to the land of the living, Mr. Winner. Had a nice trip?"

Quatre grimaced, trying to focus on Dorothy as she sat carefully next to his bed, medicine held in one hand. "Actually, Dorothy, I don't quite remember much of it." There was a flicker in Dorothy's hooded eyes even as she shrugged.

"I do suppose that is all to the best." Her mouth twisted, a shadow of icy anger settling about her features at the memory. "Suffice to say you would not have approved of my methods. Now open wide." She handed him the vial, watching with sharply narrowed eyes to make sure he swallowed the whole dosage before shoving him back into bed again. "Now, be a good little boy and rest while I take care of some business. You'll need your strength."

"Business?"

Dorothy smiled indifferently, but there was no mistaking the slight edge to her voice, "Those stones will not sort themselves out, Mr. Winner. I will be back in a few hours."

"Quatre." He interrupted, a genuine, albeit tired smile lighting his own blue eyes, "I thought we agreed that after four years of familiarity, we could at least be on a first name basis, Dorothy."

Dorothy forced a laugh. "Quatre. Of course. Now get some rest. I'll bring you up to date when I come back." Before he could ask any disturbing or potentially dangerous questions, Dorothy slid out of the chair, smiling cordially before walking quickly back outside. Once out of sight, Dorothy sighed, barely audible, as constant yells and the sound off hammer on rock masked all sounds. Well…her job was finished, she had paid back her debt and saved his life. That was all. Nothing else. Then why did she feel like breaking down to cry?

__

Face it Dorothy, now he's awake, he's fully able to take care of himself. He doesn't need you hanging on his arm like a mother hen anymore, so it's time to give him some space to breathe, understand? She understood of course, it was all too clear. She had, like an idiot, fallen in love with a God-be-damned wide-eyed pacifist that didn't know about her feelings _and_ she swore firmly, never would. It was bad enough that she had felt even the slightest amount of affection to him _before_ this, but this new situation was perfectly unbearable!

"So…how's 'e doin'?" A voice asked, and Dorothy looked up into the concerned face of Siara. "Din't get worse, did he?" Dorothy smiled back, her façade slipping a little to show a tinge of sadness amongst the relief in frozen eyes.

"No, Siara, I do believe he will be fine."

***

Quatre stared after her, watching Dorothy swing open the door and shut it firmly with a click, not even looking backwards to make sure her patient did as she told him to. He sighed, dropping back into bed, staring up at the ceiling. _She acts as if I'm a responsibility that she doesn't need or doesn't want…Is that all she sees me as? One minute she acts relieved, then next she's back to her let's-be-friends mode. _He shook his head and dropped back on the bed with a troubled sigh, blue eyes dark and unhappy. Sometimes Wufei was right: women were the strangest things to try to figure out.

***

Quatre hummed to himself, taking a taste of the concoction he had just made. Not bad…considering. He grimaced slightly at the memory of the almost inedible ingredients he had to work with. Luckily, with twenty-seven sisters to instruct him around the kitchen as well as forty Magunacs to feed, he had learned quickly how to make something out of virtually nothing. Of course, he always had his chef, but still…

"What exactly are you attempting to do, Quatre?" Quatre started in surprise, half-turning around. Dorothy was leaning against the door, saber, held casually in one hand as she watched with a raised brow at the bubbling pot on the hearthfire. The others in her work gang crowded at the door, surprised expressions written across their faces at the unusual sight and smell that was coming from inside their quarters.

"Um…Trying to make dinner?" Quatre scratched his hair, then smiled, eyes sparkling with delight as he took in the amazed looks he was getting. " It's something I always enjoyed."

"Doll-child…why cain't you cook like that?" A burly man grinned at Dorothy, who rewarded him with an annoyed glare as they filed into the room,

"Because, I _don't_ cook. Quatre, let me introduce you to my acquaintances. This is Chris, Siara, Tor, and the silent one that acts like Yuy is Keele." Dorothy glanced at the man wickedly, "I take it back. Even Yuy talks more." Keele just shrugged. "And ladies…or rather, lady and gentlemen…this is Quatre Rebaba Winner."

"Pleased t'meetcha, Mr. Winner." Siara said cheerfully, straddling a chair. "'Specially if y'can cook like that. What's it, by the way?" 

"It's some of the meat they sent cooked with some of the tricks that my sisters taught me." Quatre smiled, serving out the plates and slipping naturally back into his familiar role as a host. "And please, do call me Quatre." They ate dinner in a companionable, talking and complaining with good nature about the day's work. Dorothy smiled and talked more freely in this atmosphere, Quatre noted.

Her usual biting sarcasm was missing as she teased the others as unmercifully as they teased her, able to laugh as she had not done in court. The most anyone there could expect from her there was a cool smile, perhaps a few words in response. "No Chris, if you had not decided to let that load of rocks fall on the cart's wheel, I _would_ have been able to fill it sooner. So therefore, it is _your_ fault." Dorothy retorted. Her laughter sounded like bells, maybe a little rusty from disuse, but bells nonetheless. Her eyes had softened, and Quatre suddenly remembered how she had looked on Libra, so long ago.

Her vulnerability beneath the wall of strength had intrigued him; her ability to remain cold in the face of so much death while she cried inside. She had grown beautifully since then, maturing from a girl to a young woman who had seen life's pain and remained able to laugh, albeit cynically, through it all. Now, as he sat watching her, he could only marvel at the metamorphosis time had wrought on her. Open and happy in especially _this_ atmosphere and situation.

"So what do you think, Quatre?" 

Quatre blinked as five faced were turned towards him, eyes amused and expectant. "Oh, I'm sorry, I must have drifted off there. What was the question again?"

Chris rolled his eyes. "Well, yer still sick, so we'll forgive y'just this once. Anyway, we were thinkin' bout takin' a walk fer a while. Meet up with t'other gangs. You wanna?"

"Uh…sure." Quatre smiled, gathering up the dirty dishes but Dorothy sighed in exasperation, grabbing them from his hands. 

"We'll worry about the dishes after we return. A little good air will do you a world of wonders." The group walked outside, which was, for once, quiet with the silence that came with midnight. Dorothy smiled, breathing in deeply, then coughing as the wind blew some dust in her face. Quatre waited patiently behind as the other laughed and moved ahead, eager to socialize with the people around them.

"Are you all right, Dorothy?" He helped her back up from her semi-crouch and she glanced up.

"Hmmm *cough* fine. This place has so much dust that it is never wise to breathe in too deeply." Dorothy smiled at him, the usual acerbic edge missing from her eyes. "Nor do I believe you should try, Mr. Winner." She teased, "Lest you must lay abed for another month or more." Quatre laughed, unconsciously slipping his arm around her waist.

"I thought we had taken care of the naming problem, Miss Catalonia."

"Indeed, Quatre," Dorothy grinned back, tilting her head back to look at him in the eyes. " Just checking, of course." She turned to look at the heavens, sighing a little in satisfaction. "I never knew that space could be this beautiful…you can't see the stars on Earth. On Earth…there is too much strife. Every day, political battles, verbal skirmishes… one can never find _peace_ there."

"So, you're tired of war, Dorothy?"

"No." Dorothy brought her gaze back to him, two points of light reflecting off her eyes, which seemed as black as the sky in the dark. "War is glorious…the battles, the honor… There is a dance to war, a siren's call if you will, that beckon soldiers to it. And I…" Dorothy laughed, hugging herself around her middle. "I, Quatre, Rebaba Winner, am a child of that war." 

"But, you and Miss Releena, you've been-"

"I told you once I owed Miss Releena everything. I do, and I always pay my debts, Quatre Winner. Her battle is to fight for peace at the negotiating tables, I am merely the soldier that follows her general." Dorothy's smile flashed, "Yet, perhaps this life suits me better."

"You want to _stay_ here?" Quatre's voice cracked in incredulity, and Dorothy shook her head.

"How foolish, Quatre. I would never be content to remain anyone's slave after a life of freedom. No. When we escape, what will I do? Go back to being Miss Releena's right hand? She is my dearest friend, but such a life will always be a constriction to me. Perhaps it is my time to seek my own freedom…here? Somewhere out there?" Dorothy gestured towards the vastness of space, smiling back at the stars that danced for her. "The options are infinite."

__

She was leaving? That meant he would never see her again…or see her less. Was that what he wanted? Quatre remained motionless, but good breeding forced him to say, "I…I'm happy for you, Dorothy." 

Dorothy threw him a questioning glance, turning in his arm to feel his forehead. "Are you getting another fever Quatre? Perhaps we should go inside…" She felt Quatre's arms tighten around her and belatedly realized what a compromising position they were in, a flush slowly climbing her cheeks.

He tilted her face back and planted a small kiss on her lips…before they both suddenly broke off, flustered.

"I…I…I'm quite sorry, Dorothy. I'm not quite sure what…"

"No…it's my fault, Quatre…I," Dorothy broke off, laughing a little ruefully. "We sound like teenagers caught necking, don't we, Quatre?"

Quatre smiled back helpless, "Yes, we do. But-"

Dorothy suddenly turned serious, pulling back in almost alarm as she said, "It would never work. I'm not spending my life in the Sanq Kingdom. There are too many places to see, to many battles to be fought…I'm not needed there. But I _am_ needed elsewhere."

Quatre sighed, but held out his hand anyway. "Then…just for now, let's pretend for a while, shall we?"

Dorothy stared at his hand before sliding her own into his grasp, smiling a trifle wickedly. "I hope you know this does not mean that I will go easy on you in any future duel, Quatre Rebaba Winner."

Quatre laughed back, relief making his eyes brighten with humor. "Nor would I expect you to, Dorothy. Nor would I expect you to."

AUTHOR'S NOTE: A trifle longer than my other chapters, ne? So…whatcha think of it? I'll be posting more soon (I hope) so r&r for this!!


	12. Default Chapter Title

Disclaimer: Mine? I wish.

K, I FINALLY got inspiration…not much, but just enough to finish this part of the fic. But enjoy anyway!

Dorothy felt uncomfortably shy, glancing at Quatre covertly as they walked back to their quarters. His hand felt strange clasped in hers, the touch of skin smooth against her work-scarred palms. In the past, men who sought her company did so out of lust…lust for power. As the Vice Foreign Minister's trusted friend, Dorothy made a handsome catch, as her friend _and _Duke Dermail's only living heir, she made an irresistible prize. Suitors attempted, not to court _her_, but the wealth and power she wielded, and she enjoyed playing their little games, twisting their words around until they cowered away in confusion and fear. She despised them for that.

But Quatre…Quatre on the other hand, did not _need_ the assets she represented. If anything, he was even richer and more influential than she was, being the Winner heir as well as a Gundam pilot as well. Dorothy let a somewhat amused smile cross her face. It was a novel situation really, to be in a position in which _she _might be the one accused of coveting _his_ fortune!

"What are you thinking about Dorothy?" Quatre was watching her, and she glanced back up at him, smile firmly in place.

"I was wondering how the court would react upon seeing us now…"

Quatre grinned, spreading his arms wide in a self-deprecatory gesture, "Dirty clothes, dirty quarters…"

"Thin blankets, thin soup…" Dorothy countered, eyes flashing with her own brand of humor, and Quatre caught on.

"And working like manual laborers!" They said in a chorus and Dorothy gave a cynical laugh as she shrugged. 

"In other words, they would be horrified." She concluded, attempting to twist the fine flyaway strands of hair from her face.

Quatre conceded the point, smiling slightly at the sight she made as she cursed under her breath at the locks of hair that refused to cooperate. Some people said she was cold, said she was the epitome of a dark cat toying with her mice. He couldn't deny that she _did_ do that on occasion. But it was more of a self-defense mechanism than anything as she fought to maintain her privacy and soul amidst a whirl of political turmoil. She might not be what was traditionally known as beautiful, but she was poised, self-assured, and in her own way, serene. Not like a Releena serenity, but she did possess the same ability to watch and act calmly as the world seemed to fall apart around her.

Dorothy finally managed to get her hair into a messy bun, lip curled in distaste, but she nodded, and they finally arrived at the chambers and Dorothy deftly mixed some tea and medicine, ordering him to drink. "You'll need to get better soon, because until we know for sure that you have completely recovered, we won't be able to escape from this god-forsaken place!" She said, sitting on the edge of the bed with a slight sigh. Her blue eyes snapped in vexation, and she drummed her fingers on the saber hilt restlessly.

"Do you bring that saber where ever you go, Dorothy?"

"Hmmm? Oh, of course." Dorothy smiled, a tinge of malicious humor touching the corner of her lips. "Yes, I do. The guards seem to be slightly hesitant in removing it from my person, and I haven't offered to return it. They don't think it's much of a danger anyway, considering they have been informed that if I make a move out of line, I am to be shot on the spot."

Quatre looked up from his tea in alarm, "Dorothy, maybe you should-"

"I _told_ you. I am a soldier. Soldiers thrive in battle, and this, Quatre, is a battle. You do _not_ throw away your weapons when you know that someday it might save your life."

"Why can't you let go of war? It's meaningless! We shouldn't fight! It's..it's _wrong_!" Quatre asked, lines of strain crossing his face. "Haven't we had enough death? Haven't we had enough suffering? Why do we have to suffer more?"

For a moment, Dorothy stared at him, shocked by his exceptional outburst. _He's so naïve… still so innocent after all the death he's seen…_Dorothy shook her head, trying to ignore the voice in the back of her mind that asked the same question. "You speak of an ideal world, Quatre. Such a world, one of complete pacifism, has yet to be formed. The factions of human weakness divide us all, and until we have conquered this, I still must fight. As Mr. Milliardo and Yuy must." There was a slight bitterness in her voice as she added, "We need to fight to protect the innocence of others, and in return, this endless battle takes away ours, making us cruel. But it is a kind cruelty that we must practice. To protect, we must kill, thus death must become kindness in itself." 

She chuckled, rubbing her eyes wearily. "People such as yourself should never have been allowed on the battlefield, Quatre. You are _too_ kind. You would never understand."

There was a silence before the bedsprings creaked, and then Quatre was sitting beside her, and somewhat awkwardly, held her head to his shoulder. Dorothy stiffened, then leaned slightly into him, enjoying the tactile contact of one human to another with a small sigh of contentment.

"At least promise you'll _try_ not to kill anyone." There was a note of concern in his voice that bespoke of tenderness and Dorothy smiled.

"That is a promise I will try to keep."

Quatre held her in his arms, trying to quiet the fear in his heart. She was going to get hurt if she wasn't careful…and what was he going to do then?

***

"Um…Heero, what are you trying to do?" Duo hovered over Heero as the Zero pilot's fingers fairly flew over the computer keys, a frown marring his brow.

"Be quiet, Duo."

"But Heero, you're leading us right into that asteroid field!" Duo's voice hitched slightly in panic as he glanced at the large, slow moving boulders careening about in space. Heero glanced up.

"That's the point."

"_What??! Why??_"

"Following Dorothy's signature trail. This was the last place we tracked her to before she disappeared." Trowa answered calmly, barely missing an asteroid that was moving it's great bulk towards them with slow menace. 

Trowa steered the ship carefully along the given route, ignoring Duo's cry of dismay. He was _not_ getting into this.

Duo sighed, scratching his hair absently. "Oh man…why do _I_ have to hang out with crazy suicidal pilots with the fear factor of zilch?"

Hilde smothered a laugh, then hugged her boyfriend with an unsympathetic grin on her face. "Well, Mr. Shinigami, what do you expect? They were Gundam pilots!"

Duo sighed, wrapping his arms around Hilde. "Yeah…well…You'd think after three years of peace, they'd have mellowed out a little bit."

Hilde cocked her head up at him. "So you've mellowed out, Duo?"

Duo grinned, "Me? The great Shinigami? Never, Hilde-babe! I can still kick butt with the best of them!"

Heero snorted slightly before bending back over to his task.

There was a slight smile on Trowa's usually emotionless face before he banished it behind his mask again, isolating the signal to a single pair of coordinates. "We're there." He checked the star map tacked to the side wall. "Asteroid 68."

"Activate a cloak shield. Land on the other side of the asteroid. We'll disembark there." 

***

"Sometimes I think I'm gonna be sick or somethin'," Tor sighed, stretching out on the measly pallet the called a bed, "Work in th'mornin. Work t'the night…ain't get any worse'n this." Dorothy remained broodingly silent, leaned against Quatre as he glanced down at her reassuringly. "S'like days o'hell, and ain't no way we gonna be outta here."

Siara jumped to her feet angrily, demanding, "What, y'gonna give up? Don't think so, not me! I'm gonna get outta this shit factory if it's the last thing I do. I _ain't_ stayin' 'ere for the rest of m'god damned life!"

"No one said anythin' bout that, Si. Just gotta face th'facts that we might be here fer awhile." Chris said soothingly, but Siara shook her head angrily.

"B'fore I got sucked into this cesspit, I was a miner. Took care of m'self, ain't need anyone t'take care of me now!"

"Si-"

"No! Can't take much more of this, Chris. I want out. Six months, six goddamn months of haulin' and sweatin' for the bastard! I ain't getting' a red _cent_ for this!"

Dorothy said quietly, "Calm yourself, Siara. We all know how you feel." Siara was about to snarl a harsh retort when Dorothy added, "We all want to leave…but it won't happen if your mind clouds like that. You have to be clear minded and unpanicked if you want anything done. Therefore, when you calm down, we'll talk again."

"Y'got a plan, Doll-child?" Chris asked, leaning forward, elbows resting against his knees. 

"A semblance of one, yes…I'm just waiting for one more factor to present itself."

"?" Even Quatre looked at her in amazement, but Dorothy just smiled, a slightly feral gleam in her eyes.

"I want revenge just as much as anyone here, but I also know that we won't be able to do it without a certain Gundam pilot, isn't that right, Mr. Yuy?" All eyes looked around in bewilderment, until they located a silent shadow standing by the wall, green tank top and all. 

Quatre gaped in surprise, half rising out of his seat. "Heero…is that you?"  
There was complete silence, then a monotone voice replied from the corner. "Yes."

Author's note: k, finished with that part! (Finally) sorry so late! But I have a major 100 pt essay that I had to finish for English before I was allowed to write my fic! *bows* gomen. BUT, this is the next part! Hope you like it! r&r as usual, I luv you guys! MERRY PRE-CHRISTMAS!!! Hope you aren't as tired as I am! J


	13. Default Chapter Title

Disclaimer: If this were mine, I'd jump the moon, but it isn't so there's no need to wear my sneakers today. And a few of the secondary characters are mine, but Angela? Well, she belongs to herself…

K, this is the next part of the series! 

"How did you know-" Quatre began, but Heero merely glanced at him, silent warning in his eyes to be quiet. He regarded the others of the work gang with blank impassivity, and they stared back, until Dorothy finally snapped in annoyance.

"Now _really_ Yuy, do you _have_ to give everyone a silent Death Glare upon meeting them? Let me guess, you'll pull a gun on them soon and say "omae o kuruso", as well, won't you?" Sarcasm dripped from her voice and Heero swung his gaze back to Dorothy, before he shrugged silently, still not stepping forward into the meager light. "Well, suit yourself. Who else is with you?"

Heero hesitated for a moment, then answered, "Duo, Hilde, and Trowa."

"Duo? Trowa?" Quatre's voice faltered, "I thought they had gone back to the L2 colony!"

"He came back for the ball at the Peacecraft mansion," Heero replied. "We were all there." 

Dorothy sighed impatiently as she flipped her hair back. "Wonderful. Now, shall we discuss our battle plans, Mr. Yuy? Quite frankly, I'm sick and tired of this life and quite eager to get back to the snarling bickering of civilization." Dorothy said pointedly, and Heero finally sat down as he withdrew a sheaf of papers from his pack. He tossed it on the table, watching as Dorothy snagged the topmost sheet with practiced ease, a small frown marring her brow.

"In-ter-est-ing…" She murmured. "I didn't know there were metal shafts leading directly into the complex."

"Cuz we weren't allowed t'look." Chris retorted, leaning over her shoulder. "Hmmm….ore shafts. Probably where raw ore goes to the refinery…" He tapped a part of the blueprints that was riddled with machinery.

"And this is where it's shifted off planet…or off asteroid as the case may be, headed towards the markets." Quatre indicated a part of the complex that looked like a docking bay. His eyes were grim, "At the most inaccessible part of the asteroid as well."

Heero watched as they absorbed the information; Dorothy, her eyes narrowed with gleaming speculation, and an equally intense Quatre, mind working with cool objectivity. They were both soldiers, even though Quatre hated to admit it. Soldiers with a soldier's mind for battle. Of all the Gundam pilots, Quatre had the sharpest mind, the highest ability to lead his men because of his compassion for those under his command. Because Quatre cherished every life, he fought only to preserve it…but Dorothy was different.

Dorothy was more like himself, a loner, a soldier that fought a solitary battle because she refused to allow her capacity for love to show itself. But she did care. After the war, Dorothy had gone to visit Trieze's gravesite, laying flowers to rest on the mound of earth that rested over the fallen warrior. Unknown to most, she had also gone to the mass cemetery that contained the body of every soldier that had fallen in the last battle and had stayed there until the dying rays of the sun had forced her back to the mansion. Tear streaks had marred her face that day, only to be hidden once again by the cold mockery in her smile. It was the only way she knew how to live.

Suddenly, a flash of pure mischief flashed in Dorothy's hard blue eyes. "The shafts lead to the central complex. If one of us were to infiltrate it, we would have complete access to the communications system, the entire _asteroid_. If we can gain control of that…"

"…then we could easily send off a message to the Earth's Sphere Alliance to bring reinforcements!" Quatre said in excitement, but Heero shook his head.

"No."

"What? What do you mean Heero?"

Dorothy grimaced, answering instead. "I'm assuming that Miss Releena did not give official permission for this mission, did she? It would have gone against her stance on pacifism. If she does order Mobile Suits brought in, then the Western delegation will be able to accuse her of reneging on the treaty." At Heero's nod, Dorothy muttered, "I expected this…"

"Then how come y'told Luir that if Miss. Dorlain would send armies after 'im, Doll?" Chris demanded roughly. 

"It was a ruse on my part." Dorothy flipped through the remaining pages of the dossier before she looked up. "There was no other way I could ensure that he would not harm anyone otherwise." She smiled cynically, "It's nice to know these years in the political field have paid off for _something._ But we digress. Even if we won't be able to ask for reinforcements…we can always warn the colonies of this…this criminal organization. And besides…" Her smile widened, and her eyes glittered dangerously, "Luir is there. Kill the general, cripple the army." 

"What?!" Quatre jumped up. "You can't go in there expecting to _kill_ anyone! You told me you wouldn't!" For the first time in his life, he was angry at her, furious even. "If we fight, we'll only perpetrate a vicious cycle, another chapter in this endless waltz. And I am _sick_ of fighting!"

Dorothy glared coldly back up at him, "Then shall we just allow him to kill us slowly? Escape and leave thousands on this asteroid to work the rest of their lives away? That isn't honorable. A soldier cannot run from his responsibilities."

"Fighting is _not_ the answer! And we are _not_ soldiers anymore!"

"I am." Dorothy replied with venomous softness. "And I told you, I always will be a child of war." Quatre glared helplessly at her before walking away, storming out into the night without saying anything to anyone. Heero watched his friend go, inwardly bewildered at this mercurial, even dangerous side of Quatre he had never seen before, except in the Zero system…

Dorothy broke the silence with a small cough. "Let's continue with the battle plans. Tomorrow is the best day to strike…before he finds the shuttle." Heero glanced back at her, Prussian blue eyes revealing nothing as he nodded.

__

Expectations…Love is all too brief and all too fragile…Dorothy forced herself to pay attention to the battle plans, face melting back into a mask of stone. _And Catalonias never find love…even when they know that love is given…and reciprocated._

***

A while later, Dorothy walked outside, watching Quatre stare sightlessly up at the stars. "Quatre?"

He turned, some semblance of a smile on his face though they didn't quite reach his eyes. "Dorothy. Are the plans ready?" Dorothy nodded, hesitantly wrapping her arms around his waist. 

"The plans are made. I'm leaving tonight." Quatre closed his eyes, hugging her closer.

"I'm sorry about-"

"There isn't a need to be sorry, Quatre. I understand." Dorothy whispered back, letting herself be held. She hid her face in his shirt, not wanting him to see the tears that made her eyes soft, made her weak. "If the situation was reversed, I would not allow you to go either. However, I _am_ the most replaceable for this job. You need to get home alive to look after your family, and Miss. Releena needs Yuy. The others don't know the codes, so they can't go."

"But you wouldn't let them if they did know, would you Dorothy?" 

Dorothy shrugged, forcing a sardonic smile to her lips. "Call it three years worth of pacifism's mark on me. In this way, I am able to fight, but it will be for a good cause. And I'm not afraid."

"Just…I don't know. Just be safe Dorothy."

"I'm not ready to die just quite yet, thank you very much." A gleam sparked in her eyes. "I still have too many places to go."

__

So will I lose you either way? In death, or in parting? "You'll have to be alive to go, Dorothy. So stay safe and don't force unnecessary confrontations." She didn't answer, unable to promise that. 

She kissed him quickly and stepped back, her mask not quite negating the tears in her eyes. "For luck, of course." Then she was gone.

"Of course." Quatre touched his lips and looked back towards the stars. _You have all my luck with you, Dorothy. All my luck, and my love._

***

Dorothy slipped into the complex, her clothes even dirtier from her stint through the ore shafts and she grimaced in disgust. "Horrible unsanitary cesspit!" She hissed, saber, already withdrawn. She walked with cautious swiftness through the hall, her soft-soled shoes making no more than a whisper against the steel floor. "Now where did Yuy say that control center was?"

Footsteps approached her position rapidly and her eyes narrowed as she slipped into one of the many alcoves, saber held at ready. It was a young guard, swaggering along, not even bothering to check for any intruders as he smirked, gun slung over one arm. Dorothy smiled coldly. _Fool_…She fell in step behind him, then grabbed his hair, saber held to his throat.

Teeth bared and eyes froze like the glaciers of the Arctic. "Well, well…I caught a little fish. No no…" She held her blade tighter to his skin and his eyes widened as it broke through it slightly, a choked sound emerging from his lips. "If you do nothing wrong, you won't die. If you do…well then, I can't be held responsible for my actions, now can I?"

Five minutes later, a blue-eyed blonde-haired guard checked her saber, belted at her side, and the gun, which was thrown ever her back. She glanced back at the semi-naked, bound and gagged man and gave him a mocking salute. "Goodbye, Private. Oh, and _thank_ you ever so much for your cooperation."

***

Fingers tapped easily against main console and Dorothy bit her lips intently, watching the passwords and identification locks melt beneath her fingers with a vengeful glint on her eyes. "Well…if this isn't the biggest scandal to involve court." She murmured, examining the names of the buyers with cold cynicism. "Some highborn necks are hanging tonight, now aren't they." She downloaded the information, then sent it on a private channel to Releena's personal computer, encrypting it with a heavy security code. Heero had developed just such a precaution…in case, of course, something like this ever happened. If the message was intercepted, the file would duplicate itself, sending one onwards to its final destination while the original deleted itself. An ingenious little mechanism that no one but a chosen few knew how to activate.

"Finished…" She flicked off the central controls, a smirk lighting her cold blue eyes as she listened to the machinery power down, the lights flicker slowly before dying altogether. The corridors echoed with panicked shouts and Dorothy quickly tossed an explosive in the room as she left, nodding casually at a running guard as he went past. A few minutes later, a huge explosion lit the air, tearing screaming metal from it's base, ripping wiring to shreds and melting steel in the orange yellow blast of a raging inferno. Dorothy watched as vaporous black clouds of soot rolled off it, filling the morning sky with an unmistakeable beacon. She threw her head back and laughed, a harsh, furious hiss of a cat. The moaning of the wind seemed to scream with her as it savagely whipped the flames higher. "Now, Mr. Luir…the games begin!"

***

Author's note: Whew! Thought I'd never finish that! Well, hope you like it, r&r!


	14. Default Chapter Title

There was a massive explosion as a whole section of the complex was ripped out of existence, shrapnel tearing into the air as if shot from a gun. Duo jerked his head up, then glanced at Quatre's pale face. He threw him a lopsided grin, stretching as he said, "Guess that's our signal, Quatre." He watched the workgangs emerge from their quarters ore picks, crude knives clutched in their hands and yelled, "Let's go! But remember, _only_ take prisoners! The person that kills a guard's gonna answer to me." Duo jerked a thumb towards his chest, "Got it?"

There was a murmur of resentment, but the presence of Heero's unrelenting gaze made them agree hastily. Quatre yelled, "The fences are down! Do your best to stay alive through this! And don't kill, not unless it's absolutely necessary. It's wrong to kill, even your enemy! They will be put to trial by the EarthSphere Alliance!" When there was a stronger agreement, Quatre gestured them forward and they overpowered the hapless guards with swift dispatch.

In fact, it was almost too easy…

"I'm going to find Dorothy." Quatre said abruptly, and turned towards the complex.

***

Dorothy walked leisurely in the metal corridors, hearing the panicked breathing up ahead of her. The shadowy figure twisted into a room and abruptly, the footsteps stopped and he started cursing furiously, twisting about in an attempt to find another exit. 

"Well, well, Mr. Luir…it seems that the cat has just about caught the mouse!" Dorothy flattened herself against the wall, listening closely before she walked into the dark chamber, her eyes glowing like aquamarines in the dying light. She bared her teeth in a smile, watching the frightened man jerk around in terror, eyes wide in his normally stoic face. Dorothy laughed mockingly, curtsying. "Why Mr. Luir…I'm surprised to see you here! Tell me, why are you running around your own facility in absolute dark?"

"You! This is all your fault! If you hadn't…"

"I told you never to underestimate the Gundam pilots, Mr. Luir." There was a sibilant hiss in her voice as the saber drew slowly from it's sheathe. "Yet, you did not heed my warning…unfortunate for you."

"W-wait! I'm worth millions! Let me go and-"

"And you'll give me all your money, Mr. Luir? I'm not interested. There _are_ some perks to being Duke Dermeil's _only_ living heir, so money was never an objective for me. Oh no, Luir. I am a soldier and your death is all I need."

"A soldier fights for _honor_ doesn't she?" Luir edged away from Dorothy's upraised saber, "What honor is there in killing an unarmed man?" Dorothy's eyes narrowed. "You're the same as I am, Miss. Catalonia. You wouldn't hesitate to murder me and-" 

There was a flash of light, and Luir winced away, preparing for his death. Instead, another saber clattered harmlessly against the floor, rolling towards his boot toe. He opened his eyes, gazing first at the weapon, then at the coldly smiling girl. "Shall we begin, Mr. Luir?"

He cautiously inched his hand forward, never taking his eyes off her, and grabbed the saber, leaping to his feet with a feral grin. _Foolish child…_"Whenever you may be ready, Miss Dorothy."

Dorothy raised a brow at the sudden change in his attitude, but with a brief salute, lunged at him in a Crescent moon attack, striking with cool, vicious accuracy as she sought to locate his weak points. Even though half her mind was concentrated on the offensive tactics she was using, she was already analyzing his style, his footwork as she barely blocked a glancing blow from his sword. He laughed exultantly before jabbing forward again, this time ripping the material of her sleeve, drawing blood from her upper right arm.

Dorothy gasped as she felt cold metal grind against bone before extracting itself again, her eyes tightening and turning gray with pain and battle fury. _Bastard…_Her opponent grinned watching her as he flicked his tongue out to touch the edge of his sword. Without taking his eyes off her, he licked a trail through the crimson liquid that stained the blade, smiling as she snarled in fury.

"First blood is _mine_ Dorothy Catalonia."

Dorothy wiped her brow and coldly transferred the light sword to her left hand. She didn't have time to bind the wound. With a feline smile of her own, she slammed her blade against the guard of his sword, causing him to curse as he hastily yanked his hand back lest she sever his fingers from his hand.

"But it's the life's blood that counts, Mr. Luir! And _that_ is _mine!_"

***

Quatre ran ahead of the other's heedless of Duo's yells to wait up. He glanced around at the corridors, unable to mask his frustration. They all looked the same! _Dorothy, where _are_ you?!_

***

Dorothy was forced to skip back a few steps, giving Luir the offensive advantage as the sabers clashed again and again in a crescendo of glittering notes. The dance of blades had taken on a desperate turn as they flashed with quick abandon, only to be met and repelled. Dimly, the cry of exultant men and women could be heard outside, yet in this place where neither time nor outside interference was acknowledged, there was only an expectant stillness that hung heavy in the air.

"Why…don't you…give up, Catalonia…" Luir was panting heavily. Physically, he was still unwounded but his breath came in sharp wheezes and his movements were becoming slower, as if he had to drag his arms and body through water to meet her attacks. Dorothy smiled enigmatically, her eyes glittering.

"It's too early to give up to you yet, Mr. Luir. The day is still young." Blood still seeped from the wound at her arm, staining the sleeve dark crimson. Dorothy wiped the sweat from her forehead. She felt liquid bead slowly at the mouth of the laceration then gather itself to trickle slowly downwards, caressing to the skin as it slipped into the palm of her hand to drip slowly between her limp fingers. Dimly, Dorothy knew there was pain, but she blocked it out, determined to focus all her attention on this duel.

Her lips curled in a feral smile. _This_ was battle. Not that insipid excuse for a brawl that she had done with the guards that had tried to kill Quatre. The glory of facing one's opponents in one on one combat… She lunged forward suddenly, sweeping her saber low to catch the flat of it against his knees and he stumbled backwards as, saber raised awkwardly to fend from her blows. 

__

Now. Dorothy smiled in triumph, sudden engaging in a Lightning Sweep attack. She swept her blade straight down on top of him _As a lightning touches ground_…There was a shriek of metal as he, of course, parried the obvious move. _But when it finds ground, it will return upwards…_ She reversed the direction of her blade, going forward and up to finally settle her blade at the soft flesh underneath his throat. His eyes widened as he felt a single drop of his blood slip along her blade, christening it with his blood…

Cold eyes flickered, "You lose." They moved in a silent dance as Luir stepped backwards once. Two steps, his saber held only loosely in his hand while hers continued to press deeper into his skin. "Drop the saber." He did quickly, and Dorothy's eyes flashed contemptuously. "You are a fool…but it won't matter soon anyway…"

***

There was a crash of blade against blade and Quatre looked up, listening to the sound, trying to locate it.

"Sabers." Trowa noted, head tilted up as well.

"Where there are sabers there is Dorothy. Let's go." Quatre ran through one of the corridors, and the sound of fighting grew louder until it stopped in ominous silence. _Dorothy…_He burst into one of the doors and froze, watching as Dorothy spoke softly to Luir, her eyes cold and unforgiving.

__

No, Dorothy…

"I told you. You're dead anyway, Luir. Be happy. I'm making your death painless!" She drew back her saber and if flashed forward.

"Dorothy, _don't_!"

***

"Quatre?" Dorothy jerked her head up in surprise for only a second, but that was all the time Luir needed. He lashed a foot out, kicking her hard in the stomach before spinning her in his arm and withdrawing a small pistol from his pocket.

"It seems the situation has reversed itself, _Miss_ Catalonia." He glared coolly at the pilots who were approaching. "I don't think so gentlemen. One more step and her head's going to meet lead."

"Dishonorable, mischevious, bastard!" Dorothy spat, struggling against his lockhold, but it only caused him to tighten his arm some more. 

"Silence, Catalonia." He wasn't looking at her though, his wild-eyed gaze still on the four men that stood at the doorway. "Now, I'm going to the hanger bay, and Miss. Catalonia is coming with me for reinsurance. And if any of you even think about trying to attack me…" The gun shoved harder against Dorothy's head and she snarled, slamming the hilt of her saber against his abdomen.

"You little bitch-"

"Dorothy, don't fight back." Quatre whispered, fear clouding his blue eyes. "If we let you go to the hanger bay, you release her…right?"

"Well, now there's a thought. Fine, I get to the hanger bay alive, you get Miss Catalonia back alive. Now drop the saber!"

"When hell freezes over!" Dorothy snapped back, "I would rather _die_ first!"

"That _can _bearranged!" But Luir glanced quicky at his watch, and growled. He didn't have time for this. "Fine…let's go…" Slowly, they made their way to the hanger bay, Luir walking backwards to glare warily at the pilots while they inched forward, hostile, but helpless. It was in these situations that the pilots could do nothing, and they knew it.

Heero was fighting his own internal battle. On one hand, this man was definitely his enemy. He didn't need Zero to tell him that. To let him go violated ever fiber of his being…but then there was Quatre. Quatre who's face was tight with anxiety, not looking at Luir, but at Dorothy, whispering quiet entreaties to Allah. His gun was limp in his fingers and every step was slow, unthreatening, for fear that he would jeopardize Dorothy's survival. Maybe before, even a year ago, Heero might have been able to kill Luir, despite Dorothy and Quatre. But now…

"Well gentlemen, it seems we have arrived." They had. Luir punched in the code and the metal hanger doors slid open with one fluid swish…

"We kept our end of the bargain. Now you have to keep yours!" Quatre stopped ten feet from Luir, voice harsh.

"I do, don't I?" Luir shifted the gun to Dorothy's lower back and his breath blew fetid air into her ear. "Did I ever tell you, how _utterly_ beautiful you are, Miss Dorothy?" She merely snarled at him like a cat, eyes twisted in hatred. "Yes, you are very beautiful," Lips touched the side of her neck in a crude kiss and she hissed, twisting her body away from him. "But you have been a constant _thorn_ in my side! Your friends want you back, but we never said _alive _now did we?" Suddenly time seemed to slow as a shot rang in the silent air. 

The bullet touched her back, cold with dark promise, piercing her skin. Then came the pain. Pain as nerve endings shrieked and bone shattered, embedding the shards in the surrounding muscle and tissue, tearing her apart from the inside out…

The metal doors sealed themselves and a saber clattered to the floor…

Author's note: Cliffhanger? Well, only a little one. *evil smile* You see, I really couldn't help it. The devil made me do it! BUT…the next part should be out sometime this week depending on how busy I am! *looks at planner* then again, I have a crud load of homework…oh well. Suffice to say it'll be sometime before winter break! For the first week of winter break, I won't be at home, I'm gonna go on vacation! *Cheers* Going to Hawaii for the first time in my pathetic life, so I'm excited!! If anyone can tell me what sights there are in Hawaii, I'd appreciate it! Oh well, r&sr please!


	15. Default Chapter Title

Disclaimer: If they WERE mine, I wouldn't put them through such torture. But since they aren't…

To my readers:

Okay, this fic has been a comedy of errors. First, I finished the first five pages, _then_ I deleted it by accident! Grrr….AFTER that, I had trouble logging on to my author's account, so I couldn't post it and I nearly smashed my computer to pieces!!!!!!!!! AURGH! Why does this happen to ME?!

*blinks* It seems like I'm getting death threats here…oh well! *smiles evilly* I told you, I couldn't help it!! 

Thanx little green, Ayenami, and Oracle! I love your support! And 'merci beaucoup' to all my other readers too!

*glares at Pixie* heh heh…just because the saber's broken doesn't mean I can't get another one! So there! *Dorothy appears and gives Sable another saber*

Dorothy: Merry Christmas.

*Sable smirks* Heh heh…Pixie *singsong voice* when's your next fic coming out? And while I'm at it, I love you too!! Thanx for being there as a big kleenex! (private joke) *blows Pix a kiss*

*Smiles at Anika*: And yep, according to SailorVirgo, I am from the primitive society located somewhere on Pluto. *Antennae wave around on Sable's head* See? And JASON! You are SO not one to talk about cliffhangers!!! The one right before Zero was they got shot up in a car chase!! What's up with that??! What happens afterwards!? No new chapters either! For FOUR days!!!

*Wrinkles nose at Kristine* You know me too well. That's not fair!! Grrr….Oh well! And on your fic, once again…It's so GOOD!! SAP!! Yay!!! ANGST B GONE works!! *dances happily when Duo pops up*

D: Sable, shut up and get back to your story.

S: Grr…stupid baka…fine! This is my last part, guys!! I luv you too and thanx for your support!

*********************************************************************************************

Coldness. Dimly, Dorothy felt the hilt of the saber slip out of her fingers, steel falling on steel and for a moment, she hung there, between air and ground. Her knees buckled, first one folded under her, then the other…She felt herself collapse on herself: kneecaps slamming onto the cold metal with a jarring thud. There was no pain yet, only the ice that ran down her veins in a cold river, seeping through fingers pressed tightly against her mid-drift.

She heard a hacking coughing. Was it her? It had to be her…no one else was hurt…not like this…She could feel the icy cold metal of the bullet lodged somewhere inside her, slowly warmed by the heat of blood flowing over it and she clenched her teeth, willing it to stop, willing the blood to stay inside her…an impossibility. There was a tickle at the back of her throat, like tiny fingers and she gagged, on hand clutching her collarbone. Suddenly nausea twisted through her gut and an answering wave of liquid rose in her gorge. She gagged and a river of blood spilled from her lips glistening on her lap, in her hair…Blood. _There was so much blood. How much could a single body hold anyway? Nothing can be worse than this…_

Or so she thought. Then the pain started. A prickle of discomfort that exploded in a furious bath of fire that clawed it's way up her back and she choked on an enraged scream. _Oh GOD, this hurts!_

"Dorothy!!" Quatre sprang to her side catching her before her shattered spine gave way as she slumped downwards. Her dead weight dragged them both down as she leaned heavily against him, her blue eyes wide with shock and agony as every moment sent more bone shreds tearing and twisting into unprotected muscle. "Heero!! Duo! Get a doctor! There has to be one somewhere around here!" Quatre's voice held a note of panic and suddenly, Dorothy felt wet droplets hitting her face. She blinked. _Why is it raining? We're inside…_

"Quatre?" She heard the sound of cloth tearing and looked upwards, dazed as she felt crude bandages being tightened across her midsection. _Why is it raining?_

"I _told_ you to take care of yourself! Why can't you ever _listen_ to me!?" Quatre yelled. Trowa gently wrapped the cloth around her, but even before he was half finished, blood had already seeped through the first layer of bandages to spread in a coppery pool around her. Tears were streaming down his cheeks, but he either didn't notice or didn't care as he clutched her limp hand in both of his.

"Really….Mr. Winner…are we going to…discuss my shortcomings…now?" She gasped, convulsing as wave after wave of pain pounded through her.

"Yes!" He retorted, desperately trying to keep her talking. If she was talking, she wouldn't die. Something told him this, it had to be true…

"Very well…but I…I don't regret it…" She choked, more blood running out of her mouth and she half arched in pain. Her eyes, usually blue with acerbic humor were slowly turning violet, then sable…"I don't…" A smile, ever sarcastic, touched her lips as she gazed defiantly up at Quatre even as her body relaxed with the coming of oblivion.

"But…" Quatre stared at her as she slowly closed her eyes, head cradled in his lap. The lines in her features eased and Quatre felt frantically for her pulse. It was there, faint, but there…

"Quatre, we have to leave." Trowa stood up, watching his friend through hooded eyes. "It's time to go." Quatre nodded carefully taking the bloody bundle in his arms as they sprinted out to the ship to be met with Heero, Duo and another man who took one look at Dorothy and ushered them all into the craft. 

Dr. Park refused to allow them in the room, slamming and locking the door, forcing the pilots to wait outside in the receiving room. Quatre gazed down at his hands, a sparkling liquid crimson that slowly dripped from his hands…He sobbed once, clenching them into fists as his whole body shook with pain. _No, why did this have to happen? _

Trowa was talking quietly to Heero, gesturing to something he held in his hand, but Heero refused to touch it, shaking his head and nodding towards Quatre, who wasn't paying attention. Trowa hesitated, then nodded heading towards the Arabian with purposeful strides.

Suddenly, Quatre's fists were gently pried open and a shiny cylindrical device was slipped into his hands.

A cylinder…detonation device. He glanced up and met a face hooded by a shock of hair, but still…filled with compassion. Trowa touched his shoulder, squeezing reassuringly before he walked away, letting Quatre deal with his own demons. For a minute, Quatre just sat there, staring at the the detonation device in his hands. He didn't believe in fighting….didn't believe in more death, more suffering.

__

But… there was always a but. But Luir had virtually enslaved these people. But he had taken them all hostage. _But…but_ he had hurt Dorothy…not merely hurt her, but almost killed her after an oath not to harm her…Quatre closed his eyes, face, once light with youth, clenched tightly as he sighed, a weary sigh of disillusionment. 

__

Dorothy what should I do? An image flashed in his mind. _What would you do?_

I don't regret it. Dorothy smiled with cynical amusement. _I don't. Would you?_

Yes…no…I don't know. A flash of her tortured expression crossed her mind.

__

I don't regret it. Would you?

Quatre opened his eyes, staring once again at the detonator. Slowly, his thumb slipped across the surface to touch the small button. 

***

Luir snickered, ever so slightly, leaning back in his chair with a cold smile. He had won. He had come away from this encounter unscathed except for the minor loss of a few assets. A pity really. That mining corporation had been the best he had. No matter. It was quite simple just to start over again, a new business, a new life…

A small device winked silently under his desk, an innocent green giving way to an furious red warning…

***

The Doctor walked slowly out the door, hands and the front of his chest covered entirely with blood. Quatre almost gagged, but looking down at himself, he found that he was in pretty much the same condition. "Is she okay? Will she be all right?" Quatre asked anxiously. _She couldn't die…_

The man sighed, eyes weary as he glanced back up at them. "I don't know. I stopped the bleeding and she's strong and she's fighting, but…"

"But?"

"The shot hit her spine, shattered several vertebrae and the shards sliced through several nerve endings as well. If she recovers, there's a good chance that she'll be paralyzed from the waist down." He hesitated then forged ahead, "That's only _if_ she makes it-"

"She'll be fine!" Quatre whispered furiously, "She will. She _has _to be!"

Trowa put a warning hand on Quatre's shoulder, steady green eyes staring with unnerving calm at the doctor. "Is she awake?" At the man's confirmation, Trowa pushed Quatre forward into the room and quietly shut the door. Slow, shuddering breathing came from the bed, and there was a brief shift under the covers and a rasp of pain.

"Dorothy…I don't think you should move right now." Quatre sat by the bed, taking her hand and she laughed bitterly.

"Not move? Why not move when I'll be stuck in a goddamned wheelchair for the rest of my life?"

"You might not-"

"Quatre, don't try to hide these things from me!" Blue eyes shifted slightly to glare at him. "Death, I don't mind. That's one thing, but paralysis? Give me death instead!"

"You don't mean that!"

"Oh no? How am I to explore the galaxy when I won't be able to see what's outside my _room_ alone? Having people wait hand and foot on me because I can _not_ do what was once so simple!"

"You can learn, Dorothy. Physical therapy-" 

Dorothy didn't answer, just shifted her eyes away from the concern she saw in Quatre's eyes. A sparkle of wetness touched her cheek briefly before she brushed it away, hissing slightly. "I never thought it could happen. So foolish…"

He didn't say anything, only held her hand. Held her hand until she fell back into a fitful sleep, unshed tears making his own eyes dark with sorrow.

***

Releena ran out of the mansion as the aircraft gently set itself down, flinging herself into Heero's waiting arms. She hugged him tightly before stepping back, brushing the hair out of his eyes. "I missed you." Heero smiled wearily, still not letting go of her waist as he let the ice melt from his eyes. Not again. He wasn't doing this again…it was finished. "Heero." Suddenly Releena gasped, clutching at him as the Preventors carefully wheeled out Dorothy's form, but Dorothy only laughed at Releena's horrified expression.

"Oh dear me, did I shock you Miss Releena? Don't worry. Doctors say that I'll survive this trip easily." Dorothy's lips were curled in sardonic humor that didn't quite reach her eyes and Releena smiled tentatively back.

"Are you…feeling any pain, Dorothy?"

"Not much." Dorothy's newly made façade never wavered at the outright lie, "Drugs can do wonderful things to the nervous system, Miss Releena." She glanced at the determined look on an approaching Sally's face and grinned wryly. "I believe the mother hen approaches. I'll see you later. Count on it."

As Sally wheeled the table away, snapping questions and a healthy dose of scolding to go with it, Releena looked up at Heero, eyes wide. "What happened to her, Heero?"

Heero tucked Releena under his chin, cradling her close. "War." 

***

PEACECRAFT MANSION: ONE WEEK LATER

Quatre woke to a muffled crash and a well-rounded curse, sitting up in his bed. Releena had been kind enough to allow him to stay until Dorothy was better…or as well as she could be. He listened again and heard the Dorothy's unmistakeable voice as he tossed back the covers, half running to her room. "Dorothy" He knocked on the door quietly, "Are you all right?"

"Sh-what? Of course."

"Can I come in?" 

There was a shuffle and then Dorothy replied, only a hint of pain in her voice, "No. I'm fine, Quatre. Please leave me alone."

Quatre hesitated, then pushed the door open cautiously anyway. "Dorothy! What are you doing!?" Quickly, he tossed the door open and picked her up from the floor, noticing the tear marks that streaked her face. Gently, he laid her back in the bed, sitting next to her as she turned her face away from him.

"Nothing."

"You were lying on the _floor_ Dorothy! Sally said-"

"What does she know?!" Dorothy yelled, then glanced quickly to the door before wrapping her arms around herself. "I just wanted to get a drink of water. I didn't want to bother anyone so I decided to try getting it myself." A sob shook her shoulders. "But I couldn't walk. I couldn't walk, Quatre. I tried….really, but I just couldn't…" Quatre hesitantly put her arms around her and she buried her face into his chest, crying bitter tears.

"It's okay…"

"How can it be okay?" There was a hint of anger in her usually placid eyes. "Damn that Luir…when I find him…"

Quatre cleared his throat, "He's dead Dorothy. His shuttle exploded as he was reaching the L3a colony…"

"What? Who-" She broke of suddenly and stared at his guilty face, "You? _You_ killed him?" He averted his face, not looking at her. "Quatre Rebaba Winner, why did you do that!? I thought-"

"Some things cannot be forgiven Dorothy," Quatre smiled sadly, "I just had to find that on my own…" 

Dorothy laughed painfully and hugged his waist before letting him go, "You weren't supposed to get into this, Quatre. I told you, some of us still have to keep their innocence in this war."

"You haven't lost yours, you know…" He replied softly, watching her. "It's just more deeply hidden." Dorothy didn't say anything, just stared out the window at the coming dawn. "I'd…" He hesitated, then forged ahead, "I'd like to help you…if you would let me…" He held out a hand to her on the sheets. She didn't look at him, but slowly, uncertainly, her hand touched his and enfolded it in a tight almost desperate grip.

Quatre smiled, relief in his features as he hugged her to him. "It'll be all right Dorothy. It'll be all right." 

***

10 YEARS LATER

"Are you _sure_ you want to try this today?"

"Quatre, I have been sitting in this goddawful chair for the last past ten _years_. I think it would be an understatement to say that _I am ready!_ " Quatre laughed as he helped his wife over to the parallel bars. 

The sun beamed through the windows, sunny with promises of a new day, perhaps a new life. Dorothy smiled, as Duo cheered irrepressibly as if they were merely congregated to watch a football game.

"Go Dorothy! It's your birthday! It's your-hey!" Hilde swatted him on the head, laughing.

"Shut up Duo! Good luck Dorothy!"

"Be careful!" Releena called, and laughed at the glare that Dorothy tossed her way.

"Are you sure you don't want to wait another ten years?"

"Don't even _think_ about it, Quatre!" Dorothy smiled, her eyes softening as she watched her friends assemble in the dueling room to watch her first steps. They had been very supportive, soothing her through bouts of temper and depression, making her take care of herself when she didn't care anymore. Slowly, she grasped the two bars, levering herself up. She sucked in a breathe, gazing into the pair of blue eyes that mattered most to her, that wouldn't let her fall no matter how hard she pushed him away. Slowly she put one step forward… 

Author's note: I know, cruddy chapter! Grr….This sucks. But there were too many points of view to add and too little coherency to it! Darn! If I have time, I'll revise this! Stupid ending anyway…I might shave to add an epilogue... Hope you liked it, and since this is the last chapter R&R!!!!!!!!!!!!! Please!???


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